First Impressions
by Lazy Tobi
Summary: Modern P&P. Elizabeth isn't sure what to trust when she meets Will Darcy - her first impression as a child or the boorish one as an adult? Even though he's saved her twice and looks like a fallen angel, she has to go through quite a bit to decide. (Will not be finished, might be deleted.)
1. Kiss From an Angel

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: You can't prove anything. (Wait, yes you can. Poop.)

**- Kiss From An Angel -**

What was that smell? That noise? Who was groaning?

It took Elizabeth about two minutes to realize the smell was that of burning wood, the noise was the fire devouring said wood, and the person groaning was herself. Upon inhaling smoke, her moans broke apart into coughs, and her eyes opened violently to loud colors and the bee stings of smoke on top of recognizing the signals shooting through her body as pain.

Where was she?

Elizabeth knew she was sitting on a wooden chair, and when she tried to stand up she realized why her shoulders throbbed and her arms felt awkward; her arms had apparently been viciously thrown over the high back of the chair to be tied to it. Her legs, similarly, at her ankles, were also tied to the chair with an abrasive rope. Despite the odd situation, her first instinct was to call for help instead of trying to answer all the questions running amok in her head that she'd usually want to answer right away.

"H-help! Someone – anyone! Call 911 or something!" Her crows fell short from the milling smoke and the dryness of Elizabeth's throat. Screaming had awakened the headache she hadn't yet realized was there, and she hissed in discomfort. Amongst the crackling feast from the fire, Elizabeth heard someone else's coughing – a man's, most likely, from the deepness of it.

"I'm in here!" It felt like a bad action movie to Elizabeth as someone opened the door she'd never noticed before, a halo of smoke wreathing around even darker black curls.

"I'm here, Kitten." His voice was cracking, just like hers, but it was much lower in timbre. Elizabeth couldn't focus on the man, but she could tell he was tall and cradling his right shoulder.

"I'm here, Kitten, to help you. It's okay… I'm going to untie you…" The voice, soft and gentle, was in her ear now as the man quickly moved behind Elizabeth, fingers slick with something sticky, struggling with the knotted rope keeping her wrists bound to the chair. A few muttered curses later, the man freed her wrists and moved down to the ground to get Elizabeth's ankles free of their constraints, all the while murmuring, "I'm here, Kitten, don't be scared… it's okay… I won't let anything hurt you."

- (One month earlier) -

Elizabeth ducked her head below the luggage rack, finding her seat next to the plane window. Letting her messenger bag fall to the floor before kicking it beneath her chair, Elizabeth fell into her seat. She didn't pay much attention as the plane filled up, but she was rapt when the stewardess was giving the mandatory safety instructions. Generally, Elizabeth was one to ignore them, but since it was her first time flying alone not as a minor, she thought it'd be best to listen. After the stewardess finished, Elizabeth pulled her iPod from her bag and put her headphones in, making herself comfortable; it wasn't too long before she was soundly asleep.

"_Daddy, daddy, can I go buy an ice cream?" Tiny little Elizabeth Bennet asked, tugging on her father's hand and pointing towards the vendor with an ice cream cart. Wayne looked to where the small digit was pointing, seeing the vendor in question was still in eyesight although moving out of it._

"_Sure, Liz-Bear. Come back swiftly, you hear?" He said, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out his wallet. As neither he nor Elizabeth knew how much an ice cream could cost, Wayne handed the whole leather-bound object to her, unaware of the teenagers watching near by. Wayne knew his daughter was unusually sharp and responsible for her mere six years and thought relatively nothing of letting her go chase down the vendor on her own since he was quite used to that sort of thing happening; besides, it was noon in a crowded park with many families meandering about. Nothing could possibly harm his little girl._

_He couldn't have been more wrong._

_Elizabeth laughed in giddy delight, taking her father's wallet in her small hands, skipping her way over to the ice cream cart. Three teenaged boys, all of whom towered over her, intercepted Elizabeth in her quest, however, before she could reach the planned destination; she was also already out of her father's eyesight._

"_Hey, getting some ice cream?" The tallest of the boys asked, voice cheerful despite his mean countenance. Elizabeth smiled naively up at him, putting the hands that contained Wayne's wallet behind her back, rolling on the balls of her feet clad in just bright pink flip flops decorated with sparkly butterflies._

"_Mmhmmmm. But my daddy told me not to talk to strangers." Elizabeth replied coyly, about to go around the gaggle of boys when the one closest to her grabbed her arm with a grip so tight it caused a bruise to appear the next day._

"_We're not strangers. We can take you to cheaper ice cream if you just follow us." He said in what he assumed was a kind voice, ignorant of how painful his grip was._

"_No, my daddy wants me to not to talk to strangers." Elizabeth replied, putting a brave face on in spite of her pain. The boy who spoke first snorted, taking her other arm, pulling her forward slightly with the help of his friend._

"_Your daddy would love you if you save him a bit of dough, you know." He tried to console her, not liking the way Elizabeth was protesting and dragging her feet. The third boy who hadn't done anything yet was looking around nervously, keeping an eye out for adults who might butt in; he completely mistook the boy nearing them as one going somewhere else and not interested in what they were doing._

"_Hey, come on now, shut up and just follow us!" The tallest one, a violent lad, hissed, free arm going back to slap Elizabeth. His hand never connected with her; a boy interrupted it, jumping up from his scrawny height and taking the teenager's arm down with the element of surprise coupled with his meager weight._

"_She doesn't want to go with you, if you didn't notice." An English accent highlighted his cracking, defiant voice. Although he was a teenager himself, he was a good deal shorter than the older teens and much, much skinnier; he resembled a rail, or a leaf blowing in the wind compared to the older boys' more lean builds. Elizabeth noticed he was even slimmer than herself._

"_The hell? Get outta the way, brat!"_

"_No."_

_The one word caused chaos. Already incensed by Elizabeth's struggling, the violent boy curled his hands into fists and landed one, two, three, four punches on Elizabeth's savior before his two friends were pulling him back, telling him to stop, that he was gathering the attention of the adults. She didn't watch the three louts run away; instead, her eyes fell onto the boy who'd helped her as he fell forward onto his knees, clutching his ribs and coughing up bits of spittle tainted with blood coming from his split lip; it dribbled down the cleft in his chin before dripping onto his once pristine t-shirt. He'd been socked once in the eye, mouth, and twice in the stomach._

"_Thank you." Elizabeth said quietly, forgetting her surroundings when her rescuer looked up, giving her a good look at his face. Despite the cut oozing blood on his lip and his red, puffy eye that'd bruise over soon, his face was beautiful, accented by the startling silver pair of eyes and the mop of golden curls. The boy truly resembled an angel – a hurt one at that._

"_I'll be okay, lass. Let's get you that ice cream with out any more louses heckling you, yeah?" He suggested softly, one arm still cradling his ribs when he stood, the other outstretched, palm skyward, to Elizabeth. Because he'd helped her and wasn't grabbing at her but presenting the option of touching him, Elizabeth trusted the boy she was calling "Angel" in her head; she smiled exultantly up at him and took the warm hand in her own, swinging them back and forth between their bodies. Angel stayed with her, saying he was her brother's best mate watching out for he while he visited the loo when questioned by the ice cream vendor, and led her back the way she'd come from._

"_You look like an angel, you know." Elizabeth said when she spotted her father, taking her attention off of her ice cream for the first time since receiving it, looking up at Angel once more. He laughed, the sound bouncing between that of a boy's and that of a man's, head thrown back in mirth._

"_I can assure you, little miss, I'm far from it. But, since you see me as such, I'll give you a kiss from an angle for good luck." Angel said once he'd stopped laughing, stooping down and pressing his lips against Elizabeth's cheek. They were soft but chapped, creating a little bit of a prickle against her skin. When Angel pulled back, he used the hand not grasping Elizabeth's to wipe away the smudge of blood from his split lip, being the gentlest he had been yet._

"_I bet that's your dad, isn't it? He's going to wonder who I am. I'll see you, yeah?" With that, Angel was gone, dashing away as fast as he could while Wayne walked briskly over to his daughter, concern etched onto his face. He could see the red mark on Elizabeth's bicep and wondered what had happened._

"_Who was that, Elizabeth?" Wayne asked, tone harsher than he wanted. Elizabeth craned her neck back to stare up at his eyes, finding them a dull brown compared to Angel's._

"_An angel."_

_And she explained her tale, making her father feel guilty for ever accusing the boy mentally for any wrongdoings. Over the course of the week, Elizabeth begged to go the same park, but her parents were reluctant in taking her there because of the incident. Exactly a week afterwards, she saw Angel again right before she was leaving for a month-long, end-of-summer camping trip cut off from civilization with her Aunt Mari and Uncle Eddie visiting from England._

"_The casualties include the almost fourteen-year-old heir to the Darcy Corporation, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and…" The newswoman was saying, but her words were lost on Elizabeth as she stared at the screen. There was her Angel, listed under the casualties from a fire on a private boat that had been in the Atlantic Ocean; only after she'd asked what a casualty was did Elizabeth become melancholy._

"How ironic," Elizabeth, now at the age of twenty-one, thought, yawning and stretching in her seat. The time she'd dream about Angel was the time she was on a plane, the first one she was riding alone in. She'd spent most of the duration of her flight sleeping. Ever since she was a girl, Elizabeth had dreamed of moving to England; now, she was getting the next best thing, in her opinion: moving in with her English aunt and uncle who had moved to New York. She tried to convince herself that it wasn't because she remembered Angel having an English accent but hadn't quite assured herself yet that that was true.

Elizabeth had woken up because the stewardess had shaken her until she did, saying that they were landing soon and she should put on her seatbelt. She lost track of time after that in the hubbub of landing, getting off among the crowd, finding her luggage, and then finding the man whom her Aunt Mari and Uncle Eddie had sent to pick her up. They would have been there with all five of their children had not the middle child of their triplets, James, broken his arm during the time she was up in the air. After ten minutes or so of searching the parking lot for a man who resembled "a male version of Professor Umbridge from Harry Potter" (her Aunt Mari's words exactly), Elizabeth pulled out her cell phone and scrolled down in her contacts until the name Bill Gates popped up. She hadn't been told the man's name, just "Bill", and had decided to have a little fun in dubbing him until she learned it.

The phone rang three times exactly before a nasally voice crooned, "'Ello?" Scrunching her nose and knowing giving the man the name of "Bill Gates", even in jest, was doing injustice to the actual man, Elizabeth detested to answer and wondered what face could possibly match with the voice. Suddenly, "a man who resembled Professor Umbridge from Harry Potter" didn't seem like a hyperbole at all.

"Um, yes, hello. This is Elizabeth Bennet, and I—"

"O', _Miss Eliza_, 'ow wonderful that you've called. I 'eard your flight 'ad landed, but I 'aven't seen your pretty face yet, bird." Even though she hadn't heard many English accents in real life and knew some could sound that heavy, Elizabeth knew he was faking it for her.

"First of all, drop the completely phony accent. Second of all, don't you dare call me a bird or Eliza. Third of all, where the hell are you? I've been searching for you for a while now." She snapped, wincing slightly; her New Years resolution (for the past couple of years) had been to not get offended so easily and stop jumping to conclusions (which she hadn't been able to do, ever). There was a slight coughing on the other end before Bill went on.

"Yes, well, Mariabella said you enjoyed heavy English accents…" Elizabeth's face went blank, the thought, "He's hitting on me?" running through her head like the woman in a horror film fleeing from the murderer or evil monster.

"Anyways, I believe I see you, Miss Eliza…" A few seconds of silent fuming later, Elizabeth jumped in surprise when a hand fell onto her shoulder, accompanied by that awful voice asking if she was "Miss Eliza." She turned around slowly, shrugging the hand off, not too surprised by the man's appearance; her aunt had not, in fact, overstated it but had hit it on the bull's-eye. Bill was a stout man with his size belying his dishonesty about being addicted to sweets, a heavy muffin top breaching the top of his trousers, and greasy, dank hair smoothed over his skull; because of the grease, Elizabeth wasn't sure if his hair was black or brown. His face had acne scars and a pouchy look, with rat-like teeth poking out slightly over his slim bottom lip, and the only pretty thing about him, it seemed, was his eyes: they were a clear, startling Granny Smith apple green. He was even shorter than her mere 5'3 frame, though not by much!

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance, finally, Miss Eliza. I'm William Collins III, but everyone calls me Bill. From what Mariabella and Eadbard have told me of you, I feel as if I've already known you for years." Bill said, giving a slight bow and holding out his hand. Elizabeth tried not to let her nose scrunch up once more as she tentatively shook his hand, making a mental note to wash her hands meticulously at the nearest chance she got.

"Well, I have no idea who you are, so can you just take me to the hospital the Gardiners are at?" Elizabeth said, adding, "Please," as an afterthought. Bill frowned slightly before nodding, leading her in the one direction she hadn't gone to a tiny, beaten car that was easily overlooked.

"Your chariot, Miss Eliza." Bill said, leering at her and opening the passenger seat's door. Elizabeth raised one eyebrow, shivering slightly as she dumped her bags into the front seat and then opened the door to the back seats to sit. Bill sulked but said nothing, getting to the driver's seat and starting up his car; the whole way to the hospital he tried to get Elizabeth to have a conversation with him. She only gave him monosyllabic sounds that didn't quite count as words. At the hospital, Elizabeth was able to shake Bill off after his incessant inquiries if she actually could carry all her bags and if she could find her family by herself by telling him the wrong area and that she wanted a drink.

"I'm so sorry about him, Lizzie. He saw your picture one day, and Bill wouldn't let this opportunity drop. It's wrong of me, but I think James' arm was broken because of him. James won't say a word." Mariabella said as soon as she saw Elizabeth, looking quite apologetic. The boy in question was finally getting a cast on in a room with his father and siblings next to him; Mariabella had stayed outside for Elizabeth.

"What did you say he did at your work, again?" Elizabeth asked, following her aunt to the small room already filled past its' limits with Gardiners.

"He _was_ the janitor. Eadbard and I decided to fire him today because of what happened with James. We left them alone for five minutes, and suddenly James' arm is broken and he won't say anything. Nothing. The poor lad is mu— well, it couldn't last forever." Mariabella said, finishing upon entering a room where James was saying he wanted a black cast because black was the new black and looked really cool.

"Izzy is here!"

"IZZY!"

She wasn't sure which of the Gardiner girls had screamed first, but soon four of the five Gardiner children were crowding around her, hugging her legs and waist.

"Hey, guys, let me put my stuff down, yeah?" Elizabeth asked, laughing with Mariabella, trying to remember when she said, "Yeah?" at the end of a sentence. She blamed it on the dream about Angel.

"Yeah! James broke his arm being daft, did'ja know?" The first born of the triplets and therefore the oldest (by a few minutes) of all the Gardiner children, Shane, cackled. He, James, and Connor looked like their father with dark ginger hair and ice blue eyes, showing off their Irish roots; freckles were smeared across their noses, cheeks, and extremities.

"Naw, that fat rat broke 'is arm, Shane!" The youngest of the triplets, Connor, disagreed. Mariabella gave Elizabeth a look that said, "See what I mean?" before the two boys started bickering; Eadbard had to break them up. While the boys fought, Bonnie and Noelle, the girls, were able to climb into Elizabeth's lap, as she'd sat down after dropping her bags safely in a corner. The nurse wrapping James' arm was grinning, holding back laughter at the large family, having a hard time concentrating on keeping his arm straight because of them.

"Hello, girls. You know I'm going to be living in New York with y'all now? And Bonnie, are you missing a tooth? You're both getting so big!" Elizabeth said, spotting a gap in Bonnie's grin as both girls wriggled happily one her thighs.

"Yes an' yes! The toof faerie came by, too!" Bonnie giggled, zealous her cousin had noticed the change in her smile. It was the first tooth she'd lost, and she was making sure the whole world knew.

"I wanna loose a toof!" Noelle whimpered, the youngest of all five at only four. Bonnie was six, almost seven, and the triplets were all just barely past nine.

"You will soon, Noelle, promise. Now, who wants to play patty-cake?" Elizabeth said, hoping to distract the girls so their parents could concentrate on the triplets. Three patty-cake games later and one hair-pulling for being out of synch, James was finally done getting his cast, and the Gardiners led Elizabeth to their car. Eadbard carried her bags since James wanted a piggyback ride from her as he'd been neglected while he was getting his cast on. The ride to the Gardiner's messy abode was filled by the kids asking Elizabeth questions she was more than happy to answer, most unlike her ride from the airport to the hospital, ranging from if she knew who the tooth fairy was to why she'd moved to New York.

Mariabella distracted her children from Elizabeth when they reached the house with lunch while Eadbard helped Elizabeth move into the girls' room. Even though he was a lawyer that made a good yearly sum, Eadbard had decided with Mariabella to have a small, quaint house and to not spoil their children (or themselves) rotten because they wanted a large family. Large families equaled high education bills, and with Mariabella quitting her job and becoming a stay-at-home-mum, something had to give. Because of their intentionally limited housing costs, the Gardiners only had a three bedroom, three and a half bathroom apartment. Upon asking to live with them until she had a steady income and a nice place picked out, Elizabeth had been warned, "Either you kip on the couch or stay with Bonnie and Noelle on a bunk." Seeing as an actual bed was better than a couch, even if she could fit on either option because she was short, Elizabeth chose the latter option.

"They'll be nosy, you know."

"I know, Unlce Eddie."

"You'll not have any privacy."

"I know, Uncle Eddie."

"The triplets will come in more often than not."

"I know, Uncle Eddie."

"We didn't mean to sound quite so hostile on the phone, Lizzie, it's just—"

"I know, Uncle Eddie. Thank you for letting me stay with y'all anyways."

"We love you, Lizzie."

"I love y'all, too, Uncle Eddie."

- (One month later) -

Elizabeth looked at herself in the mirror and did a little twirl. Somehow, she felt like one of the princesses decorating the room she shared with her two younger cousins. The image was hard to picture as she was in all black, had temporarily dyed her hair black, and had a cat tail, paws, and ears on. It must have been the dress. It _had_ to be the dress.

The dress was a little black concoction put together with a designer label, delicate and flowing off her shoulder. It dropped off somewhere around the middle of her thighs, but it was still long enough to cover the black spandex shorts Elizabeth had donned to cool her anxieties about flashing someone accidentally. It dipped low into her cleavage, giving anyone who looked a view of seemingly endless creamy skin, emphasized by a deep amber collar jingling around her neck, almost hidden by the cascading curls of her hair. The dress cinched under her bust but flowed seamlessly to give a shadow of what was underneath, and a crooked belt the same color of the cat collar was draped over her hips. Attached to the belt was her tail, and up, hidden in her hair was the headband that Elizabeth had attached a pair of fuzzy black cat ears with smoky gray insides; the only make up Elizabeth had on was centered around her eyes, the eye shadow she'd donned matching the smoky gray and the mascara highlighting her deep green eyes. For paws, she had on elbow length gloves that she'd outfitted with a light coating of fur-like material.

"You look beautiful, sweetie."

Elizabeth jumped, turning to face her aunt framed in the doorway, smiling.

"Thanks, Aunt Mari. I don't happen to know… thank you, again." Elizabeth laughed, watching her aunt pull the pair of black flats she'd been missing for the past half hour out form behind her back.

"Noelle had, um, 'borrowed' them 'with permission' for her dress up game with Bonnie." Mariabella explained, rolling her eyes playfully, walking over to Elizabeth and handing her the missing shoes.

"Tell me again about this party? I know Jane has a good heart, but this is… I mean, the dress…" Mariabella trailed off, gesturing hopelessly at the dress neither she nor Elizabeth could afford.

"Jane said it's my early Christmas present; I plan on somehow giving it back after tonight. I didn't have to get into the party with designer duds – see these gloves and those shoes? And the cat collar that is literally a cat collar? – she just thought I'd look good in it when we went shopping the other weekend. Jane wants me to meet her husband and their friends… it's a party, my first in New York, so I don't see a problem. I promise I'll come in quietly when I come home so I don't wake anyone." Elizabeth said with an air of indifference while inwardly she had the same concerns. Jane Bingley came from a crowd with seven zeros or more behind their _names_ while Elizabeth had been lucky to meet someone with five behind their yearly income. She was the sweetest woman one could ever meet, but Jane didn't understand how anyone she knew could not accept Elizabeth just because she didn't have any zeros at all.

Elizabeth had met Jane the first day at her new job in a little bookstore. Jane couldn't find a book and asked Elizabeth for help; the two ended up looking throughout the whole store for a book that wasn't there anymore because someone had bought the last copy the previous day. However, they'd ended up talking the whole time, becoming fast friends. Jane was 23 and taking a year off her studies to spend with her new husband, Charles Bingley. Over the course of the month, because of Elizabeth's work and school hours and Charlie's own school and work hours, Elizabeth hadn't met Charles but had met Jane more than six times for lunch (not including the shopping sprees Jane insisted Elizabeth join her on where she found out about their spending differences).

"Hey, kiddo, if you're drinking tonight, leave the car there and call a cab." Mariabella said as Elizabeth slipped on her shoes, grabbed her small messenger bag that contained all that a purse would and more, and left the room.

"Got'cha, Aunt Mari!" Elizabeth called over her shoulder before leaving, borrowing her relative's minivan. Even though parking was a bitch, Jane promised there would be plenty of space at her and Charles' house. Elizabeth punched in the address Jane gave her to the GPS and followed the directions it said in Yoda's voice (Eadbard's obsession that was rubbing off on all his children) until she came up to the long drive way leading to a mansion.

1813 Netherfield Park Drive was just about what Elizabeth half expected. Given whom she was married to and how she spoke of Charles' friends, Elizabeth wasn't the least bit surprised Jane lived in a place like this. Even if she weren't expecting something grand, the slow drive from the packed-like-sardine apartments and condos spreading out to houses, then large properties, then gigantic houses on even bigger properties would have given her a hint. There was even a group of valets at the door to drive the cars of the Bingley's guests to the garage. Elizabeth wouldn't have been surprised if a butler was the first person she saw inside the doors, but a caped crusader was her welcoming committee.

"Hey, lassie! Nice." From the green tights, red shirt with green sleeves, completed with black and yellow cape, Elizabeth was pretty sure the English man was dressed Robin. Even though he had nice wavy caramel hair that looked incredibly soft, she didn't appreciate him looking her up and down.

"My face is at the top, Robbie." Elizabeth said curtly, narrowing her eyes at him. After inspecting his face closer, the man was probably in his mid-thirties even though he was still quite boyishly handsome.

"My apologies, Catty. My name is Dick Grayson." Robin finally met her eyes, smiling pleasantly and holding out his hand. Because his smile brought out a dimple in his left cheek, Elizabeth decided to shake Dick's hand.

"Elizabeth Bennet." She said after retracting her hand.

"Bollocks. Not a comic book fan, are you?" Dick sighed, wearing a disappointed pout.

"You can get that from my name?" Elizabeth asked, a bit bewildered.

"No. You didn't ask me if my name was really Dick Grayson or why I wasn't wearing Dick Grayson's Robin outfit instead of one of Tim Drake's." Dick replied, shrugging nonchalantly, adding, "Follow me if you want to get to the ballroom," as he started to walk away. Elizabeth scurried after him, trying to think of what he meant. There was more than one Robin…?

"From your face, I'm betting you're wondering how many Robins there are - four, if you want to know. And my name isn't actually Dick _Grayson_ – it's Dick _Fitzwilliam_ II. Well, Richard, but no one calls me that because of my father." Dick explained, boyish grin returning. Elizabeth, unsure of what to really do, just smiled back.

"You know, if I was dressed as Batman, I'd make some pretty inappropriate jokes since you're the closest to Catwoman so far. However, since I'm not, I'm just going to say, 'Holy kitty litter!' and let you go." Dick – Richard – whatever, said when they reached the ballroom, winking. Inside there was already a crowd, but Jane popped up out of nowhere a minute after Elizabeth left her guide.

"Lizzie, have you seen a tall guy in a suit?" Jane, dressed as a very pretty Madonna, asked.

"Um, no, all I've seen is Dick… um, Robin." Elizabeth said, accepting the quick hug Jane offered.

"Oh, that must be Darcy's cousin, then… Charles says he's always been Robin. Do you want to meet Charles? And help me avoid Darcy, the tall guy in a suit?" Jane tittered, glancing around frantically. Elizabeth couldn't tell if she had a crush or was just exceptionally nervous to meet the Darcy fellow.

"Sure. What's Charles look like?" Elizabeth questioned, looking around with her friend. She saw a pirate, a cowboy, a death reincarnation or something, a zombie – was that a pink pony with a curly mane?

"Y'all have some weird friends…" She whispered, nodding towards what was definitely a young man in a pink pony outfit talking with a guy who had a weird smiling face as a mask, holding up a sign that read, "The game."

"Charles' friends – erm, the younger ones… are a bit… eccentric? Well, they're more like acquaintances, but Charles calls everyone his friend. They're nice when they're not joking around, though, so it's okay." Jane replied, eyeing the two young men in question.

"Charles is dressed up like a vampire – he's kinda tall, ginger, dressed in all black… and has a fake monocle and moustache. I haven't the slightest idea why. I _think_ he got coerced into it." She continued, grabbing Elizabeth's hand as a woman dressed up as a playboy nurse walked by, separating them for a fraction of a second. Elizabeth was glad for it, not wanting to be lost in a sea of college kids who already had more money than she ever would.

"I see him… next to a tall guy in a suit." Elizabeth mumbled, giving Jane an apologetic smile as she pointed to the duo that certainly made heads turn. Charles was just a tad shorter than Darcy, the top of his head (not including his faux hawk which reached Darcy's nose) meeting Darcy's lips, and was almost as pale in the face as the white wall behind him; also, the fake moustache and monocle were no longer present on his face. He had a giant grin on his face, showing off the pearly white fangs he'd donned, as he laughed jovially at something his friend said, clapping Darcy on the shoulder. Charles cut a nice figure in his black three-piece suit, the vest being a bright red, but Darcy cut an even finer picture in his own three-piece suit as he was built, unlike Charles. He seemed to be the exact opposite and looked very much like Dick/Robin; his hair was a dark mess of curls that draped half way down the nape of his neck. Darcy wasn't pale but instead had a light golden tan, and his tie, which was highlighted from the blackness of his vest and jacket, was a demure shade of light blue accented with silver. Additionally, he looked older than Charles with a five o'clock shadow dashing across his face quite becomingly.

"_Crap_. Lizzie, you have to come with me to meet Darcy, you just _have_ to! He's Charles' oldest friend who's saved him more than once and I can't give him a bad first impression! Quick, how do I look? Presentable?" Jane, suddenly even more frantic, turned to Elizabeth with a panicked look in her eyes.

"Janie, you look _perfect_. Darcy is just a guy – probably rich like all these other people, but still, just a man." Elizabeth found it a bit ironic she was unable to convince herself that the people around her weren't any different than her and was trying to tell Jane the same thing.

"No, you don't understand, Darcy—"

"Come on, let's go." Elizabeth interrupted before Jane could freak herself out, dragging her friend to the men.

"Jane, sweetheart, where have you been?" Charles cried once he spotted his wife, grin somehow growing even wider; by contrast, Darcy, who once had worn a small little smile, deadpanned upon their arrival.

"I was looking for Lizzie, Charlemagne – remember the friend I met at the bookstore I told you about? Charles Bingley, Elizabeth Bennet." Jane introduced them, eyeing Darcy shyly.

"Charles the Great, eh? I think you're a bit short, though." Elizabeth teased, shaking hands with Charles; he laughed, though she was pretty sure he didn't get it from the second-long confusion present on his face. Darcy, however, gave a quiet snort.

"I've heard all about you, a little spitfire. How do you like the party so far? Oh, yeah this is Crispy. Crispy, this is Jane, my beloved, and, well, Lizzie, obviously." Charles said afterwards, smile never fading.

"Bloody hell, I'm going to have to kill Dick…" Darcy muttered, scowling deeply before Elizabeth could say anything.

"I just got here, so I can't say yet, sorry. Pleasure, Crispy. You look about the right height for Charlemagne – no offense, Charles. But, I thought your name was Darcy?" Elizabeth smiled politely, thoughts jumping to the Dick/Robin she'd met; because of Darcy's words, she was pretty sure they were related. Looking at Darcy with a closer view, he reminded Elizabeth of someone, but she couldn't really place whom. She also noticed Jane and Charles edging away, talking about dancing.

"It is, but my poxy cousin calls me Crispy because my middle name is Crispin…" Darcy replied, a bit ashamed.

"That's cute. Does your cousin happen to be dressed up as Robin?" Elizabeth inquired, unconsciously looking around for Dick. She wasn't positive what to make of him yet, resulting in her wariness of him.

"He told you the whole deal about his costume, did he? He's just a mostly harmless nutter obsessed with comics and video games, ignore him." Darcy instructed, rolling his eyes; everyone who met Dick while he was in his fandom mode always had the same expression when speaking about him.

"He's got wandering eyes, you know. Do you like dancing, Crispy?" Elizabeth smiled impishly up at him, spotting a slight lip-twitch at the nickname present on his face. Darcy ruminated on the question, thoughts bouncing between him not really liking the activity because of a certain someone's sibling, but he actually enjoyed the brazen young woman before him. If there was one thing he and Dick had in common, it was a taste in looks for women; Elizabeth, a leggy, if short, brunette packaged with a killer smile and astounding amber eyes, was definitely a catch in both their eyes. Darcy was also caught up in the fact he was being a bit too forward; women always took a dance coupled with a smile form him as affection or preference that led up to a follow-up date.

"Oh, I know he does, Kitten. I'm afraid I don't particularly like it normally and wouldn't wish to even attempt to try… _that_." Darcy jested, giving a nod of his head to the mass of flesh that appeared to be gyrating and fist-pumping in random, incessant patterns matching the heavy beat coming form the DJ's stereo. To him, it looked like a sweaty, undignified mess that wouldn't even qualify for dancing; to Elizabeth, it looked like fun, if one had the right partner and wasn't in the middle of the gigantic group.

"Kitten?" Elizabeth asked, eyebrow arched sharply; she barely knew the man, yet he was imposing a pet name onto her?

"Crispy?" Darcy shot back, smirking slightly. Elizabeth opened her mouth, hesitating for a second, before closing it; she was caught. If she remained to call him "Crispy," which she was adamant in doing now, she knew Darcy would reply with "Kitten." The smirk brought about an almost boyish quality to Darcy's face, with the hints of dimples peeking out at the corners, once more striking Elizabeth with a sense of déjà vu.

"Okay, you really look familiar to me. Is there any chance we've met before? Any chance at all?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at him. The memory was on the tip of her tongue, just barely out of her grasp, and it was infuriating. Darcy had no inkling of ever seeing Elizabeth before, except that her striking smile and eyes were quite close to something he vaguely remembered, something his subconscious could have easily made up, so he shook his head in the nugatory.

"I believe not; I always remember faces." Darcy stated before chastising himself mentally; the make-up she'd donned could easily hide certain aspects of her face or make them seem like something else. However, after that, he couldn't remember the last time he'd met someone over eighteen that was Elizabeth's height.

"Arrogant much?" Elizabeth teased, although it wasn't all in jest. Darcy seemed so sure of himself.

"Prideful in a memory that has never been – entirely incorrect before." Darcy stumbled slightly, blinking back the memories swimming up; he could smell salt already.

"Excuse me, Kitten; I should go find my cousin to see if he's pissed enough to hide in a room upstairs yet." Darcy said curtly, needing fresh air; suddenly, he felt crushed and frozen in the room, requiring a release. Elizabeth watched him walk away, curious for the immediate change in his disposition. Darcy had been polite, albeit maybe a bit aloof, until that moment in which his sureness was questioned. Deciding that he probably had an ego and wanted to leave anyone who didn't bow down to it, Elizabeth shrugged off all thoughts of Darcy as she entered the mass of bodies on the dance floor. She didn't end up seeing Charles or Jane, but she did see Dick quite a few times before she left the dance floor. Elizabeth had kept their run-ins brief and avoided them at all costs, even dancing with the guy dressed as a pink pony (he was actually a very nice guy named Matt). Upon exiting the dance floor for a drink, she was surprised to see Darcy milling like a menacing shadow not ten feet from her. He seemed not to notice Elizabeth for a second, but, with a slightly panicked expression, Darcy soon hurried to her side.

"You have my permission to submit me to anything tonight as long as you help me right now." Darcy whispered in low tones, leaning down so his mouth was near Elizabeth's ear. She chewed on her lower lip, an adorable blush spreading across her cheeks as he pulled back; it had been a long while since an attractive man – or any, besides her family members, that is – had whispered into her ear.

"Depends on what you want, Crispy." Elizabeth declared, causing Darcy to smirk at her cheek.

"Keep your voice down, Kitten; she might be near. I'm avoiding Charles' sister, Caroline, and she generally stays back when I've another woman at my side to plot or determine things in her twisted mind." Again, Darcy leaned down close, introducing Elizabeth to his scent; through the smell of the party around them, she detected Old Spice.

"You, someone who's probably around two-hundred pounds, give or take, is scared of a woman who's probably half that?" Elizabeth laughed while internally thinking the scent suited him. If anything, the name alone suited him; he was too old for a shindig like this.

"You've never met her, I gather. Caroline is not only after me as a person but also me as a publisher. She's a ruthless woman who stops at nothing to get what she wants; ever since I've met Charles, she's been sexually harassing me. Would you please help me avoid her, just for tonight?" Darcy hissed, keeping his face lowered towards Elizabeth's; his gaze darted around though, searching for the flash of fiery red that would signal Caroline's approach. He tried to convince himself he wasn't spending extra time with Elizabeth to try and figure out the enigma he figured she was, but Darcy was failing.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Anything?" Elizabeth goaded, meeting Darcy's gaze; she nearly jumped at the first good look she'd gotten at them. They were clear silver laced with light, almost undetectable blue, but from afar, hidden in shadows, they'd seemed dark blue. The only person she'd seen with eyes that pretty had been Angel, but he was long deceased. Elizabeth cursed herself for not remembering Angel's real name, wondering if the news had somehow been wrong or prematurely made. From the realization with his eyes, she could easily place Angel's face to Darcy's if the boyish features had grown into the hard angles and panes of a man's and his golden curls had somehow turned black. It was hard to see the tiny body of Angel's turning into Darcy's powerful, imposing one, but it wasn't impossible. The great height difference between Angel and Darcy was also difficult to envision but not improbable.

"Within reason. I'm not going to cover up a murder or anything." Darcy promised, holding out his hand and finally returning to his full height. Elizabeth laughed, placing her slender hand delicately into his calloused one and shook on it.

"Darn – the bodies are pretty heavy sometimes. So, what do I do? And what does Caroline dearest look like?" She asked once her hand was safely back at her side. Darcy paused for a second, glancing around.

"Stay with me until you wish to leave the party. Caroline is Charles' twin, so—"

"Look for a tall ginger woman with desire-filled eyes locked on you?" Elizabeth interrupted, spotting a disgruntled "nurse" with long red hair frozen at the edge of the dance floor; following her gaze, Darcy nodded slowly. She understood his wanting to avoid the woman; just by looking at her from afar, Elizabeth could tell exactly what sexual harassment Darcy went through if Caroline's costume was anything to go by. Her skirt was short, barely considerable as a skirt rather than panties with out a bottom, and her top dipped so low into her cleavage, one could see the lace of her bra peeking out. Darcy swallowed, adverting his eyes. Despite being a man, he couldn't stand the sight of women like that; it was despicable to him. Caroline could be a pretty woman of the waif-like, hide-from-the-world quality if she weren't all sharp angles, deep, pouty frowns, make-up, and obscene clothing.

"I understand your pain. For this, you'll be my slave for tonight, hear?" Elizabeth said, taking note of how earnestly uncomfortable Darcy looked. It was quite endearing to know, at least with this one woman, he wasn't controlled by his libido and was considerate enough to look embarrassed for her.

"Aye, I hear you." Darcy replied with slight apprehension; he didn't appreciate the evil-looking, toothy grin spreading across Elizabeth's face. He started to regret asking her when he heard her cackle softly, wondering what she was going to make him do.

**A/N**: _Hellloooo, P&P fanfic readers! :D Thanks to y'all who are reading this – as long as you enjoy this, my job is done. This is my second modern P&P (my other one is "Write My Name on a Sidewalk and Hope It Stays" –shameless self advertisement- ), but it's going to be different (and hopefully longer). I'm going to say this now – yes, it has dark themes, and I'm no expert on what goes on the world. I have done some research for the medical conditions I'll have in here, and I'll do some research on the law, too. Now, just because I Google things doesn't mean I'll get them right; if anyone sees something incorrect, please do correct me. I'll thank you for it if you aren't an arse about it. Constructive criticism makes my day, too. :3 As for updates, don't expect a set day or whatever – I update when I can._

_Tell me what you think about the little preview thing in the very beginning? Is it confusing? Poorly placed? Oh, and I'm not sure if all the chapters will be this long. xD_

_~ Tobi_


	2. She Believed

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Own I do not, Young Grasshopper.  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:

Manoella Nascimento: Thank you for reviewing. :)  
><span>Hrhdana<span>: Already? That's awesome! Thank you. But, I have to tell it to you, they don't adore each other yet. ;P  
><span>Liefdewint<span>: Aw, shucks. I don't think so, but _you_ just made _my_ day. :) Thank you!  
><span>Lena<span>: Thanks! C:  
><span>Flying-DANDELION<span>: Get used to it. ;) My chapters usually range from 6500k to 7500k words, not including this section. Thank you.  
><span>Justlovefanfiction2901<span>: Thanks. :) I like your user, by the way, lol.  
><span>Harriate Slate-Thing-Hari-Hu<span>: Hey again! :D Thanks. Well, actually, Wickham is still yet to come.  
><span>Scaredwoman<span>: Thank you. I dunno – I think meeting Mr. Darcy in a drawing room (in a cravat and a tail coat, no less!) where he's all broody would be kind of hot. ;P  
><span>Get lost reality<span>: Thank you! :)  
><span>Tinydisk<span>: Thanks. C: I changed them up a bit more than you think.  
><span>Cvtperez<span>: Thank you. :)  
><span>Nuingarien<span>: Howdy again! I'm glad you're reading this one now; I hope you enjoyed "Sidewalk," too. Do tell me if this one ever disappoints you.  
><span>xXPrideandPrejudicexx<span>: Hi again! Thanks. :3 Sorry, that's just me… I'll try to stop putting "lassie" so much.  
><span>HawkAngel XD<span>: Thanks! C:  
><span>Anon. reviewer<span>: Thank you. :)

**- She Believed… -**

Caroline watched Darcy and Elizabeth with open hostility. For some odd reason, Darcy was doing anything the girl wanted him to! He got her champagne, he danced with her until she relented because his face got so red (Caroline thought that was adorable), and was, more often than not, smiling hesitantly at something she said. Caroline had never seen the girl before, and she prided herself on knowing all of Charles' good-to-semi-good-looking friends. Although Caroline fancied herself the prettiest woman present, she couldn't deny the girl Darcy was with could catch someone's attention if they stared for a bit. The girl wasn't overtly pretty but more like the quiet librarian one doesn't notice until one talks to her, causing one to really look at her. It probably helped that she looked younger than she most likely was, smiling and dancing as she was.

Caroline curled her lip slightly at her assessment. The unnamed girl Darcy was with was like the character type the male protagonist got infatuated with for a bit while the female protagonist got jealous. Undoubtedly, Caroline modeled all female protagonists after herself and male protagonists after Darcy when she wrote her romance novels. She wondered, sometimes, if Darcy read the drafts she sent him and noticed; they'd make a perfect couple, after all. While Darcy Publishers hadn't published Caroline, another company had taken her in; she'd been on the New York Best Sellers list for three different romance novels she'd written. Caroline was hoping for the big break with Darcy when he finally realized he'd make a huge profit from publishing her; she'd switch companies in a heartbeat.

No one knew how Caroline got to write well. She'd never liked reading or writing growing up, but in college, she'd somehow decided to try it and had shown a great aptitude for it. For once, she was making her own money; it felt terrific. As an author, she made enough to be comfortable, but as Caroline Bingley, daughter of Ronald Bingley, head of Bingley Incorporated, she had enough to last her a lifetime and then some. Her last accomplishment in finally becoming her own person, Caroline had determined, was getting acknowledged by Darcy as successful in her own right. She'd known him since she and Charles were nine because Ronald had gone to Oxford with Crispin Darcy, Darcy's father. That summer was the only time she met Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, and it was the only time she'd seen Darcy smile so easily. When she next saw him nine years later, when he was twenty-three and she and Charles were eighteen, it was a shock. Still holding onto childish beliefs then, Caroline had promised herself that she'd one day mold Darcy back into the boy he used to be that was easy to smile and hard to anger.

Caroline couldn't help the jealousy running through her veins. Except for that first summer, she'd never made Darcy smile half as much as the cat girl. Even though she was glad Darcy wasn't brooding in a corner, Caroline wanted to be the person who he socialized with, not some random girl that was probably a friend of Jane's. Knowing Jane's personality, the cat girl had to be at least decent, but Caroline only saw her as competition. Making up her mind to join the pair, Caroline started over only to be intercepted by a server with a flute of champagne. He was so short that Caroline, a tall 5'11" to match her twin, didn't notice him until he grabbed her arm with a chilly hand.

"Miss, are you heading over to the girl in the cat costume?"

Caroline looked down at him, finding nothing remarkable about him but his eyes; they were a pretty shade of light green, almost like the color of a green apple. If it counted, she found it remarkable he looked so disturbing, as if he didn't care for his appearance.

"Yes. What of it?" Caroline sniffed, wondering if the hired help was allowed to talk to the guests. Charles was generally lenient with his employees, but she didn't think any waiters had talked before.

"Can… c-can you give this to her? I-I… the young man in the pink horse outfit wanted to give this to her." The waiter's beady eyes bulged and his breathing got heavy as he spoke, a creepy pleased grin forming on his face. Caroline knew Matt was in what he called a "Pinkie Pie" costume and wondered if the cat girl and Matt were an item; he was notorious for dating every girl he set eyes on. The strange thing was, despite the fact he dated around, he didn't sleep around and always ended up staying friends with all his exes. Caroline had dated him once and tried to entice him to no avail. Shrugging mentally, she nodded and took the flute before progressing once more towards Darcy and the cat girl. It couldn't hurt, and, besides, if Matt wooed the cat girl, it left Darcy for Caroline.

"Darcy, dah-ling, who is your friend?" Caroline said, quite loudly, curling one arm around Darcy's arm. The one thing Caroline had never realized in all the years was Darcy didn't appreciate her attentions because she assumed all he needed to do was get laid a few times, to have some nice arm candy to be happy once again, so when she presented her body in what she thought was a lovely way, all she did was push him further and further away. It was what she grew up with knowing and learning, so it never occurred to Caroline not all men liked their women easy in addition to dressing a bit more sumptuously. He was the only one that the tactic hadn't worked on yet.

"Caroline, this is Elizabeth Bennet. Kitten, this is—"

"Caroline Bingley, a pleasure." It stung Caroline when she heard Darcy call Elizabeth "Kitten." If they were already on pet names, then Caroline had to work harder. Her eyes were like chips of ice as she stared down at Elizabeth, daring her to do something.

"I'm sure." Elizabeth smiled at Caroline gamely. It was obvious to her Caroline was staking a claim she didn't have and was trying to "defend her man" from a rival.

"Oh, yes, Eliza – I can call you that, can't I? – Matt sent you this. He's the one dressed as a pink pony." Caroline sneered, holding out the hand containing the champagne flute; Elizabeth took it, blushing slightly.

"He's a nice guy." Elizabeth mumbled, feeling Darcy's heavy stare on her. She couldn't read his expression as she took a few delicate sips of the alcoholic beverage.

"Was I keeping you from your boyfriend, Kitten?" Darcy asked after a few minutes of silence. Even though he really wanted to avoid Caroline, he didn't want to keep Elizabeth from her significant other, even though she was proving herself to be an intricate puzzle. She'd forced him into dancing with her like a buffoon, but it wasn't even three minutes before she claimed she was tired of it and wanted to go get a drink with him. Darcy wasn't sure if Elizabeth had done it for his benefit or if she was actually bored.

"Ah, no. I danced with Matt because I was avoiding your leering cousin, and he's just a real sweet guy." Elizabeth explained, almost too quickly. Sure, Matt was cute, but Darcy was more interesting to her. Darcy claimed he could slow dance, but he had two left feet trying to dance in a more swift fashion. He seemed to be one of those guys who didn't show their emotions, but his face had gone so red, so quickly when he danced with her for all of maybe two minutes. Darcy was just a riddle Elizabeth wanted to solve; it helped him in her mind that he looked so impossibly like Angel.

"Aaanyways, Caroline and Charles, that's cute. You're not Italian, are you?" Elizabeth said hastily afterwards, not wanting to dwell on the subject of significant others. After officially getting permission she didn't care for from her father to date when she was fifteen, her romantic life had been similar to a desert: dry and uninviting with the exception of a rare oasis. In almost seven years, Elizabeth had had five boyfriends in total because she'd focused more on her education than messing around with the opposite sex. Her mother had never really understood why Elizabeth hadn't dated much, but with Lydia and Cat, Elizabeth's promiscuous younger sisters, dating more than triple the guys Elizabeth had in a year, Harper Bennet had let up some on her insistencies that Elizabeth date.

"Italian?" Caroline asked sharply, looking down at Elizabeth. She didn't understand the question's relevance to her brother.

"Yeah. Caroline is the female variation of Charles in Italy, and y'all are twins… But y'all don't look Italian - no offense if you are." Elizabeth explained, shrugging slightly. Even though Charles looked, essentially, white because of make-up, Caroline didn't look nearly tan enough for Elizabeth's estimation of what an Italian should look like. She knew she could be wrong and following a stereotype, however.

"No, we're not Italian, but my father knows the language." Caroline grumbled, wondering if Elizabeth was intellectual or just full of random "fun facts". Either way, she knew Darcy would find both traits intriguing. Silence befell the trio, and with both Caroline and Darcy watching her, Elizabeth soon grew uncomfortable. Even though Darcy had asked her to help him keep Caroline away, he seemed perfectly content to have Caroline hugging his arm provocatively; it was hard for Elizabeth to remember him looking so distressed when he brought the subject up. Perhaps Darcy just didn't enjoy asking for help? The trait would fit in with Elizabeth's earlier assumption that he had an overly large ego, although he'd proven himself to be at least adequate company, when he wasn't just so _awkward_ and _quiet_.

"I'm going to go thank Matt. Could you hold this for me, Crispy?" Elizabeth said, quickly handing Darcy the flute and disappearing onto the dance floor. She missed Darcy's panicked expression, as did Caroline.

"My, my, Darcy, is that girl even old enough to drink? Are you becoming a cradle robber?" Caroline goaded, smiling at Darcy viciously. If she couldn't insult Elizabeth to her face, Caroline would damn well do twice as much to Darcy's.

"She's Jane's friend, Caroline. I'm sure Jane wouldn't invite someone underage when all the refreshments are alcoholic." Darcy replied, avoiding not the question but the answer. He didn't know, and now that Caroline had proposed the inquiry, he was hungry for the answer. Immediately, his eyes sought out the black waves of Elizabeth's hair, but with her small stature, he couldn't even see the handmade pointy cat ears on her head through the crowd.

"Oh, but if she was Jane's personal friend, Jane would take her to the kitchen for a drink if she ever wanted one. I'm sure Lady Catherine would approve of you taking a teenager as a girlfriend." Caroline simpered, tightening her grip on Darcy's arm. If there was one thing Darcy abhorred, it was any form of deceit, purposeful or not.

"Caroline, I could honestly care less of what my aunt thinks of my girlfriend, _if_ I get one." Darcy ground out, a mighty scowl forming on his face. How quickly Caroline's mind jumped from talking to dating! The absurdity of it that he, Fitzwilliam Darcy, owner of Darcy Publishers, would date a teenager! If, in fact, Elizabeth was that young, which Darcy severely hoped she wasn't; even then, he wasn't going to _go out_ her. Despite her quirks and how she appealed to his senses, Darcy knew whom he would and would not see romantically, and Elizabeth fell far short of what he would. Darcy paused at that thought, unsure of why, exactly, she fell short, but the steely obstinacy of his character had already ruled her out as a prospect and was not about to change.

"I'm going to get Dick away from those poor girls." Darcy excused himself, wiggling out of Caroline's grasp, when he spotted an easy escape. His cousin was already drunk, that much was obvious, and trying to get a one-night stand. Downing the drink he'd forgotten was Elizabeth's at the mere thought of separating an intoxicated Dick from what Dick thought were obligating girls, Darcy put the empty glass on a waiter's tray when one passed him. He reached Dick just as one of the girls slapped his cousin, outraged; it was difficult for Darcy to tell which girl had slapped Dick, though, as his vision was blurring mightily.

"Excuse me, ladies. 'M deeply apologetic for my cousin; he's very ignorant when he's shitfaced – I mean drunk." Darcy said, placing a hand firmly on Dick's shoulder to avoid joining his cousin in swaying in addition to letting him know he was caught. The two girls, a devil and an angel, glared up at him accusingly, but not with out reprieve.

"I assure you, 'M here to take him away. Come now, Dick, let's leave these poor girls alone." He pulled Dick away, ears burning with embarrassment as Dick complained loudly, like a petulant child.

"Crispy-boy, they _wanted_ me! I could-a had a threesome if you hadn't-a come along! A _threesome_! Lemme go woo them again!" Dick yowled, not making any more to leave even though he could've; the only hold Darcy had on him was, still, just a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, 'M sure they wanted a comic book fanboy to have a threesome with. Very appealing." Darcy snickered, suddenly finding the situation hilarious, but he didn't know why. All he'd had was a shot of whiskey before that one flute of champagne of Elizabeth's.

"Hey, don't knock Robin - he's a ladies' man. 'Sides, Dick became Nightwing, an even bigger ladies' man." Dick slurred, stumbling up the stairs Darcy led him to. Both of them were staying with Charles for the time being since, even though they had more than enough money to get a hotel room, Charles had demanded they stay with him.

"Stuff you, Dickie. Go hurl in the toilet and leave everyone else alone." Darcy teased when they got to Dick's room, shoving him inside.

"Aw, you're just jealous, Crispy-boy! You can't get a girlie even if you'd-a tried tonight! 'Sides, you're as sloshed as I am!" Dick cried when Darcy closed the door, laughing manically. Even though Dick wouldn't see it, Darcy gave him the one finger salute good-naturedly before leaving, hoping beyond hope Dick would actually stay in his room. He nearly tripped on the way down the stairs, vision starting to swim.

"Bloody hell…" Darcy mumbled, leaning on the wall for support. He could hardly see straight and didn't notice Elizabeth come up to him until she spoke.

"Lost Caroline, did you, Crispy, _dah-linng_?" Elizabeth mimicked in jest, crossing her arms over her chest. Even though she seemed to be in good humor, she was vexed; anyone who knew her well could have told from her defensive stance.

"What? Caroline can go screw herself, Kitten. Bloody hell, do you have a twin?" Darcy slurred, squinting; he could see two Elizabeths talking as one.

"No, I don't. Did you get wasted?" Elizabeth accused, slightly surprised. She didn't realize one could get drunk so fast, nor did she peg Darcy as the type to actually drink enough to get inebriated.

"Did _you_? How old are you, even? This isn't England; you can't drink when you're eighteen. The age is twenty-one here." Darcy shot back, scowling again. While Dick was amusing and unaware when he was intoxicated, Darcy was easily agitated, exceptionally high-handed, and quite snappish.

"Excuse me, Darcy, but I'm twenty-one and have been since May. How old are _you_, two? Are you staying here? Because you seriously need to go to bed." Elizabeth sneered, not liking the conversation one bit. She knew, personally, what alcohol did to people, and had yet to get wasted herself even though she hadn't been legal for long.

"If you're an alcoholic, I swear—"

"'M not an alcoholic, missy. I've been able to drink for almost twelve a decade; I know m' limit. And I'm not going to sleep with you." Darcy gnarred, leaning down close to Elizabeth's face so he could focus more easily on her. On top of his blurred vision, Darcy had a hard time seeing in the dim lighting of the stairwell where the lights were turned off in hope no party guests ascended them. Elizabeth was confused when his breath, instead of smelling intensely of alcohol, smelled more like steak than anything.

"Are you a lightweight?" Elizabeth asked, choosing to ignore his accusations while he was wasted, although she wasn't sure how Darcy got sleeping together from her saying he needed to go to bed.

"'M not. Are you? You're pretty tiny." Darcy's lip curled as if being a lightweight was something to hold in contempt. Chalking up his distaste to male pride, Elizabeth shook her head, growing tired of him.

"I can hold my liquor, Darcy. Let's go – you need to go to your room." She sighed, giving Darcy a slight shove to the chest to make him move.

"D'you even know where 'm staying?" Darcy grinned in a feral fashion, leaning back but not budging. Elizabeth's eyes widened as she finally saw his grin, complete with a set of dimples identical to those she'd seen on Dick and Angel. The nickname she'd given the boy slipped form Elizabeth's lips, darkening Darcy's countenance.

"Angels don't exist, Kitten. Grow up." His grin was replaced by a cold, detesting line.

"Hey, when you were younger, were you real short and skinny with blond hair? It's important." Elizabeth ignored Darcy's statement, heart racing. Her mind was telling her it couldn't be Angel because of the news report, but her eyes and heart were saying it was.

"Don't see how it's important, but yeah. No one expected me to grow taller 'n about 175 centimeters… 'bout 5'8" or so. Still taller 'n you." Darcy smiled rakishly, haughtily straightening his spine. He'd been short as a child until he hit a major growth spurt after his parents died; he'd even eclipsed his father in height, although they'd never gotten to see it in person.

"Were you ever announced dead on national television, killed from a fire on a boat?" Elizabeth inquired eagerly, unaware of the landmine she was closing in on. Once more, Darcy's face melted into one of fierce disapproval swiftly.

"I don't see how that's any of your business." He almost seemed sober when he sneered, eyes snapping clearly onto her face with something akin to contempt. Darcy turned around then dismissively, going up the stairs. Elizabeth would have let him go alone had he not taken a misstep not ten stairs up, causing him to fall to his knees, almost tumbling down; she immediately shouldered her rampaging feelings, ranging form irate to elated, quickly climbing to his side. She could see the bone white skin of Darcy's knuckles that clutched at the banister and understood why he didn't fall down.

"You need help." Elizabeth sighed, swooping under his arm and helping him up; she somewhat regretted it since he had a good 100 pounds on her.

"Do not." Darcy grumbled, trying not to lean on Elizabeth, but he couldn't quite tell which way was up. He blinked rapidly, trying to see clearly to no avail.

"Oh, so Casper just tripped you, did he? I'm glad to know Jane's place is haunted – makes a much better atmosphere for telling ghost stories." Elizabeth quipped, grunting slightly as they made their way up the stairs slowly; her shoulders were going to be sore in the morning.

"Aren't ghost stories a bit childish?" Although he said it with disdain, Darcy could feel himself chuckling. He didn't want to, but Elizabeth, like Dick, was turning hilarious instantaneously.

"Ah, but aren't men just big babies? So ghost stories must be a bit too old for you. Besides, ghost stories are legit – why do you think horror films are so popular? 'Course, not all of them are strictly about ghosts, but it's the same basic stuff as ghost stories, I reckon." Elizabeth said, smiling slightly. She hadn't seen many horror films, being more of a "scaredy cat" (no pun intended) with a vivid imagination telling her those creaks in the night weren't natural, but from commercials, she wouldn't doubt the fundamentals were the same. Ghost stories were made up to scare you, as are why horror movies were written then filmed.

"Big babies indeed. What does that make women, toddlers?" Darcy was grateful the stairs seemed to be ending. He felt ready to drop and sleep for a few years.

"Nah, makes us your guardian angels. With out us, you'd all be bombing each other with spit balls still – _oomph_! Okay, I get it, you're bigger than me, please get up."

Not two steps over the last stair, Darcy came tumbling down, bringing Elizabeth down and somewhat beneath him; her left half and most of her upper back were covered by his body. Her right arm was smarting, as she'd barely been able to use it to break her fall before Darcy's weight made her face, also in pain, slam into it. Elizabeth's left arm was twisted at an awkward angle, having gotten half way to aiding her right to break her fall from being around Darcy's back to help support him. When she jerked and looked towards Darcy's face, his eyes were closed, mouth slightly open, telling her that he was unconscious.

"Okay, Cripspy, I really don't want to see you drool. As attractive as Caroline might say she finds it, don't believe a word she says, she's lying." Elizabeth said, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. Now it was extremely hard for her to see how he went from being so scrawny when he was a kid to the hulk of man he was now; even if he wasn't Angel, which she was severely doubting, Darcy had said he was short and skinny younger.

"Hey. Crispy. Darcy. _Dude_." Elizabeth wiggled some more when Darcy didn't respond, imagination running wild. Darcy's nose didn't _look_ smashed it, but maybe he'd broken it if he'd fallen on his face, causing the shards to pierce his brain and kill him… No, he was breathing. Snoring, actually. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that before glaring.

"You freakin' suck, you know. Fatty." She grumbled, about to free her right arm from being pinned to the floor when she heard footsteps ascending the stairs.

"Hey, person who is behind me, would you lend me a hand? Crispy just kinda… well, he got a bit drunk and passed out while I was helping him… and, yeah. He's a bit too heavy for me." Elizabeth called, not getting anything but more footfalls as a reply. They stopped right next to her, but she couldn't see who was there.

"Hey, buddy, please help. Unless you're drunk. I don't need another person passed out on me - breathing would get even harder. I should probably stop talking…" Elizabeth started to ramble, a nervous habit of hers. Not being able to see whoever was over her was discomforting, to say the least. She could hear the crinkling of pants seconds before a damp handkerchief was held in front of her face. Elizabeth was unsure of what to do, really – was she supposed to compliment him or her on their hanky? Tell them it wasn't hygienic unless they washed it after using it? That it smelled sweet? Minutes of silence passed, and then Elizabeth saw no more.

- (Crappy break line) -

Darcy blinked awake rapidly, head throbbing like one of his worst hangovers. As he became conscious of his surroundings, no memory of the night, whatsoever, came back to him; the fact that he was tied to a chair cemented his assumption in. Darcy had, apparently, been abducted. When his eyes adjusted, he could clearly see the whole room was made of wood, like in a wooden cabin, or was decorated that way, but from the view the window behind him offered, Darcy was sure he was in a wooden cabin hidden in the woods somewhere.

Darcy could also safely say an idiot who was short, not strong enough to carry him, or both had taken him. His face few raw, and he could feel bruises aching dully on his extremities and back. In addition to that, the only piece of clothing missing from his attire was the suit jacket he could see clearly strewn about just a few inches form his feet on the floor. Darcy was glad he hadn't been given a pat down, still being ale to feel the cool metal strapped to his left side. With a little bit of jerking and s few seconds of painful positioning, he was able to pull his pocket knife from his back pocket; a bit of struggling and a few accidental stabs later, his hands were free.

Darcy was about to pull his arms from over the back of the chair when the door to the room, which had been previously closed and probably locked, opened. The man who entered was rotund and rather short, fitting Darcy's earlier thoughts; his hair was unkempt and sweat beaded and trickled down from his brow. The man drew his hand away from his mouth, revealing nails that had been bitten down to the quick and chattering teeth. He rapidly wiped his hands down his front, creating damp steaks of sweat to form on the pale green t-shirt, nervous eyes darting about.

"If it's money you want, I can pay you." Darcy drawled, hoarsely, as the man fidgeted more. Speaking startled the man, causing him to jump and knock into the little table by the door; the candle on its surface tipped over and rolled around. The glass container the candle was in, however, kept the little flame from igniting the table; the little man either ignored or didn't notice it.

"I know you could, Mr. Darcy, nephew of the esteemed professor, Lady Catherine Debourgh." The man smiled somewhat innocently at Darcy, making him frown.

"My aunt, too, can pay you. Would you kindly untie me so I may call her? Or write you a check myself?" Darcy asked, searching his memory for a man who looked as common as his captor did. Certainly, the man could be an old student of his aunt's, but he didn't look nearly old enough as she'd been retired for over a decade. He certainly wasn't a prodigy, either, or else he would've raided Darcy's pockets and felt him down for anything, so he couldn't have been an early transfer student. Darcy had to have known the strange man from something, but he couldn't place what.

"Oh, it's not money I want, Mr. Darcy." The man's innocent smile turned into an ominous, toothy grin; a rosy blush spread across his cheeks almost at once. Darcy hadn't been successfully kidnapped before, so he couldn't really say if this was normal behavior or not from an abductor. Only once had someone attempted to kidnap him when he'd been a child, but they'd bad timing as Richard, a brawny teenager, had been around to beat them up. No one had been able to even _try_ to take Georgiana, Darcy's baby sister, because he kept her so close to him. This was a completely new experience for Darcy, and he didn't like it one bit. The fact that he was an adult fully capable of taking out another grown man, or even killing them, and had been taken by a man over a foot shorter than him (but probably about the same weight, if not a few pounds more than him) who wasn't smart enough to check Darcy for anything rubbed salt into the wound.

"Then what would that be, Mr. …?" Darcy asked, drawing out the, "Mister" in hopes of getting a name. He wouldn't put it past the man to actually reveal it.

"You can call me…" The man trailed off, grin turning into a contemplative frown as he thought, tapping his chin for added effect. From the light stubble adorning his jaw, Darcy could tell the man hadn't taken the time to shave in the morning, quite possibly still in the process of hurrying away.

"Father. Father William." The man cried triumphantly after a bit, giving a little nod for confirmation. At first, Darcy thought he was being patronized, until it dawned on him that the man meant 'Father' as in a priest, not like he was saying, "Father, William."

"Well then, Father William, what do you want if it is not money? I haven't got a family to call for you to play games with." Darcy lied, giving a little pitiful shrug as a front. If his Aunt Catherine was called, she'd probably tell Darcy to get out of the mess himself since he'd made so much money himself; the thought brought a wry smile to his face.

"Oh but you _do_, Mr. Darcy. I know about Georgiana, and I do know Richard Fitzwilliam is in the area if you are. But! It is not you whom I wanted; rather, you were there. I couldn't leave you, so I took you." 'Father William' explained, an arrogant smirk crossing his face when Darcy scowled as Georgiana was mentioned.

"I wasn't with anyone all bleeding night." Darcy rationed, trying to remember; all he could come up with was the party starting shortly after dinner and standing in a corner, alone.

"_Yes you were! You were with my_ – oh, that's right, you must have taken the Rohypnol. You don't remember a thing." 'Father William' started out red faced and outraged, but his ire was swept away as quickly as it came when he realized his mistake. Darcy's eyes narrowed at the man, coming to the conclusion he must have been with the woman 'Father William' fancied; she had to be in another room somewhere.

"I should go check on her… I'd say, 'Stay where you are and don't move,' but, alas, you can't." 'Father William' simpered. From his angle, he couldn't possibly see Darcy had freed his hands using his pocketknife. If the man was more observant, Darcy knew he would've spotted the blood drops on the floor from the deeper cuts he'd unintentionally made in his wrists while trying to saw through the rope and would've investigated. It was a win for Darcy and a loss for 'Father William'.

'Father William' slipped out of the room, and Darcy was able to hear the _click!_ of the lock. Knowing he had time, Darcy yanked his shoulders roughly over the back of his chair, ignoring the pain signals shooting forth, and starting cutting away at the ropes binding his ankles. It was difficult to cut through the thick rope since the knife was so small and the handle was slick with blood; Darcy cursed when it slipped from his fingers and skittered across the floor, disappearing into the black material of his discarded jacket.

"I heard something!"

Groaning mentally at the bad luck, Darcy sat up swiftly, pulling roughly at the buttons clasping his vest and shirt together; he grimly thought to himself that this was the last time he was ever wearing a tree-piece suit to anything less than a grand affair where such attire was called for (_not_ when Charles wanted a "three-piece suit buddy"). With the slamming footfalls and jangling of the doorknob counting down what little time he had left, Darcy practically ripped his undershirt from being tucked into his pants, hand finally reaching what he was looking for when the door burst open.

_Bang!_

It took Darcy a few seconds to process the whole situation. His face, tilted to the left to make sure he didn't actually hurt himself retrieving his hidden handgun strapped beneath his left arm, slowly turned to the right so his eyes could confirm his gut feeling. The handgun was momentarily forgotten when Darcy saw the deep, throbbing red hole in his shoulder. He didn't even look at 'Father William', who was staring at the shiny revolver in his trembling hands with something akin to awe, before he pulled his own gun from its carrier. Even with his shoulder burning, Darcy was able to take aim and shoot 'Father William' in both his kneecaps. 'Father William' fell to the ground, knocking into the little table with the tipped candle, and didn't rise.

"Poxy bastard… could've had a tranquilizer, more Rohypnol or something… just had to bloody _shoot_ me before I was even fully free…" Darcy cursed, frantically trying to untie the knot after dropping his gun as flames burst forth from the floor from the candle that had plummeted from the little table onto the floor. Just as the flames were starting to lick at 'Father William', Darcy untied the knot and stumbled forth, scrambling over to the man's side.

"You bloody drugged me, shot me, and I'm stuck saving your lard arse." He grumbled, shoving 'Father William' through the doorframe despite the excruciating pain in his shoulder, not even attempting to lift the man's limp form. Darcy settled for shoving 'Father William' to what he deemed as a safe distance away from the fire prior to searching for an exit. Instead of going down the hall that probably led to more bedrooms, Darcy followed his nose to the little kitchen where the remains of the man's breakfast, some bacon, eggs, and toast, sat; from there, finding the front door was easy. He doubled back without delay, literally rolling 'Father William' out of the cabin and a few yards away. By then, Darcy was panting and clutching at his aching shoulder; he grit his teeth, though, and went back into the cabin being eaten by flames for the girl.

Darcy could barely see when he got to the hall where the bedrooms were, his yes not adjusting quick enough for the light change in addition to the smoke making his eyes water. Over the cackling fire, he could hear a girl shouting, so he followed the sound instead of using his eyes to her door. He fumbled with the doorknob, coughs wracking his body, stumbling inside the room when he finally got it open, glad it had been left unlocked. This room was lit only from the light seeping in between the blinds on the window, so Darcy could only see a blur of the girl's outline. Seeing cat ears, he decided what to call her in his head as he stumbled over, left hand still clutching his right shoulder.

"I'm here, Kitten, to help you. It's okay… I'm going to untie you…" Darcy mumbled, lips brushing her ear, before he descended behind her. As his eyes slowly adjusted, Darcy found it increasingly easy to untie the girl's wrists.

"I'm here, Kitten, don't be scared… it's okay… I won't let anything hurt you." Darcy tried to comfort her; once he was done with her wrists, he moved around to her front to tackle the knots around her ankles. Because he could see better, it didn't take Darcy as long to unknot the rope about her ankles, and she fell into him when he was finished, clutching onto his neck like a it was a life preserve. Darcy's face immediately colored since her chest was pressed firmly onto his arm; whatever thoughts he might have had about 'Kitten' being a young girl were thrown out the window. A discreetly as he could, Darcy slipped his hand from his shoulder to the backs of her thighs, hefting her up with him when he stood.

"I'm going to get you out of here, Kitten, so don't let go. I don't want to lose you, and I know the way out. This is the only way I can be sure, so don't complain of manhandling." He instructed softly, exiting the room with the girl nodding on his hurt shoulder. At his hiss of pain, she stopped and moved her head carefully; it was the first good look both had at each other's faces.

"You really are Angel, aren't you…" The girl said, seeming to recognize Darcy; he, however, couldn't say the same. All he could really identify with was her enchanting amber eyes; he'd seen them somewhere before, that he was sure of.

"Angels don't exist, Kitten." Darcy scowled, narrowing his eyes at the hallway being devoured by flames. The only way they were getting out with out facing the prospect of being burned now was through the window in the room she'd been kept in.

"Plan B, Kitten – we're going out the window." He mumbled with distaste, going back into the dark room. Darcy set 'Kitten' down in the room, well away form the window, heading towards the chair. He sized it up, deeming it good enough to break the window and also make his shoulder hurt like a bitch. Since it was their only almost entirely safe way out and 'Kitten' seemed far too dainty to be able to break a window, he had no choice but to lift it himself.

"Hey, Crispy, let me do it." 'Kitten' spoke up quietly, noticing the large bloodstain on Darcy's shirt. He stepped back, allowing her to pick up a heavy, unlit candle and throw it at the window. The first pane shattered and fell, leaving only the second one in their way. She retrieved the fallen candle and threw it again; this time, it flew straight through the pane instead of breaking the whole thing. Darcy helped her pick away at the remaining parts of the window to have a nice, large hole to climb out of. The room was getting hotter and hotter, but the smoke was escaping finally, letting them breath a little easier, literally.

"You first, Kitten." Darcy said, watching the door instead of the girl when she climbed out. Only after she was a safe distance away did Darcy flit himself through the hole, wincing at the pain it caused his shoulder. He stumbled slightly over to the girl, nearly collapsing onto the poor thing from weariness and blood loss. 'Kitten' helped him over to a tree to lean against, showing genuine concern for him.

"How do you know my na-stupid nickname?" Darcy panted, sliding down the tree to sit amongst its roots; the girl settled down next to him, confused.

"I met you last night, at Charlie's party… you… don't remember? I thought you did because you called me 'Kitten' like you did last night…" The girl replied, somewhat saddened. Darcy shook his head, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone, hoping for a signal.

"Well, I'm Elizabeth Bennet, then – Jane's friend as of about a month ago. I know your cousin Dick Grayson… um, Robin…" Elizabeth re-introduced herself, holding out her hand. Darcy shook it with one hand while dialing 911 with the other.

"His name is Dick Fitzwilliam; he _wishes_ he was Dick Grayson." He smirked, listening to the ringing for a few seconds.

"Hello, 911, what's your emergency?" A woman answered.

"I've got a fire in the woods and kidnapping; we're going to need an ambulance. I don't know where I am, but if you call Richard Fitzwilliam at (123)456-7890, he can use the tracker in my phone to find us. My name is William Darcy." Darcy said too quickly. Elizabeth listened to him explain it was _not_ a joke and repeat Dick's phone number until he hung up, exhausted. Sweat tinted black from the smoke trickled down his face with a few blood smears here and there from when he shoved his bangs back from obscuring his vision. The stubble that he'd had at the party had thickened over the night, creating a somewhat prickly blanket of black across his face, and his hair, which had been perfectly curled the night before, was a frizzing mess with knots and dirt buried deep. Elizabeth didn't doubt she looked any better.

"Let me put pressure on your wound until the paramedics gets here. Take off that vest and your dress shirt." She ordered, seeing how useful his hand was being to block the wound. Darcy raised an eyebrow but nonetheless complied with Elizabeth's help on getting both articles of clothes off his right side. She set the vest aside and balled up the already soiled dress shirt, pressing it to his gunshot wound; Darcy did nothing to show his discomfort other than inhale sharply.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked, hoping to get his mind off the pain; her eyes wandered to his wrists in worry. Had some weirdo nabbed them to torture them?

"I have a pocket knife… cut my wrists free. Cursed a bit too loudly when my knife slipped when I was cutting my ankles free. That bleeding idiot comes bumbling in and shot me off the bat then decides to stare at the gun like it's a gold medal. I got 'im back in the knees and the pansy fainted or something." Darcy grunted, closing his eyes. He was far too tired for his own good, drifting off into troubled sleep = listening to Elizabeth hum softly for his benefit.

**A/N**: _Well, this is the chapter that will make or break this story for most of y'all – sorry if it breaks it for you. xD It's not too gory, I hope._

_Let me tell y'all this: I've never broken a window. I've never been kidnapped. I've never been near any fire bigger than a contained campfire. I've never called 911. I've never been tied to a chair that I had to cut my way out of (or even untied rope, lol). I've never been shot at/shot at someone/been near a gun. All of these things that happened are based off of Hollywood (I know, _bad_ Tobi), Googling things (ex. How easy it is to break a window), and guessing (911 call). If any of these things are incorrect/unbelievable in anyway, I'm sorry and mean no offense._

_Also, I mean _no offense_ to any religion by calling the guy 'Father William', I promise! I'm just using that as a way for you guys to guess who he is (cyber cookies to those who guess correctly). I hope no one hates me for making him my uber bad guy. XD And I want to thank all y'all for all the reviews, favorites, and following you're doing to this story! Y'all are amazing! Sorry for the long A/N, too._

_~ Tobi_


	3. He Lied

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Come to the dark side, we have cyber cookies for everyone?  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:

Bri1357: Cyber cookies to you. ;)  
><span>Harriate Slate-Thing-Hari-Hu: <span>You get cyber cookies, too. xD Lol, yes, he is violent.  
><span>Hrhdana<span>: I hope no one reading this has, actually. If you have guessed right, you also get cyber cookies. Aw, shucks, thanks. :)  
><span>Justlovefanfiction2901<span>: Thank you. Pretty obvious, I guess. Yes, cyber cookies to you, too. I update as fast as I can! XD  
><span>Anon. reviewer<span>: Thanks. C: Well, you'll find out soon enough for both parts, lol.  
><span>Tenny<span>: That's great – thanks for reviewing! :D  
><span>Nuingarien<span>: Awesome, thank you. Well, you'll have to read to find out, won't you? ;P  
><span>Tabby<span>: Thanks, lol. xD

**- … He Lied. -**

It was a strange, almost surreal experience for Elizabeth when the paramedics arrived. Darcy had started to shiver madly by the time they came, and she'd never realized that he was going into shock. Elizabeth rode in the ambulance with Darcy instead of their abductor, whom she immediately recognized as Bill Collins when she saw him. It was a blur in the hospital. Elizabeth got lost in the flurry of movements directing her to a room, the doctors and cops alike questioning her, and her relatives arriving with Jane and Charles. She answered any and all questions to the best of her ability and was released form the hospital with a clean bill of health by dinner time; Darcy, however, wasn't so lucky. Elizabeth made plans with Jane and Charles to visit him as soon as visiting hours started in the morning; with the knowledge that Darcy was "Angel", Elizabeth was quite eager to finally get to really know her childhood hero.

Growing up, Elizabeth had always used him as an example of who she wanted to be. When asked who her idol was, she always replied with, "Angel." Most assumed she'd meant angels in general, but the few that asked got the story behind the nickname. To Elizabeth, Angel had been her first "movie-star" crush/hero/obsession, and he'd gotten to be a big part of her childhood. Angel had been cooler than even Mr. Rogers or Tommy the Power Ranger that was everywhere. So far was he integrated into her childhood, Elizabeth was positively giddy about seeing Darcy now that he wasn't intoxicated or bleeding profusely.

When she got released to her aunt and uncle, they were overflowing with apologies and guilt. Bonnie and Noelle didn't seem to get what had happened to their older cousin, but the triplets, surprisingly, did to an extent. They were able to keep their sisters at bay while their parents talked with Elizabeth.

"Why can't we see Izzy? I wanna see Izzy!" Noelle whined, trying to escape Connor's lap to no avail. He held on tighter, mindful of how easily the young girl bruised.

"Stop being daft, Snow, ya can't se Izzy while mum and da are talkin' to her. Don't'cha know they're having a _grown up_ talk? Ya can't listen to a grown up talk!" Connor explained, glancing at his identical brothers keeping a keen eye on Bonnie. She was bigger than Noelle and put up a good fight for a girl (their father was forever bragging it was her Irish blood), but she wasn't old enough to comprehend something _bad_ had happened to their cousin Elizabeth. Elizabeth's hospital visit wasn't like James'; she actually had a bed and a hospital gown on when they had arrived.

"But I _wanna_!" Noelle sniffed, growing doe-eyed. Connor balked, looking away; no one could refuse Noelle's puppy dog look. It was probably a law somewhere because their scary, war-hardened, tobacco-spitting grandda Gardiner even gave in to her.

"Snow, ya can't just say ya wanna an' get ta do it." James commented sourly, feeling a bit useless. His cast was weighing down his arm, so he couldn't hold Noelle in his lap. He couldn't play patty-cake like Shane with Bonnie because one of his cast as well. The only thing James knew he could do was sit and watch, just in case one of his brothers was caught off guard and accidentally let one of their sisters "escape."

"Can so!" Noelle declared indignantly, wide eyes replaced by narrowed, sharp splinters of evergreen pride. Everyone in their family had a feeling Noelle was going to be an even better fighter than Bonnie was turning out to be because of her accidental, somewhat-spoilt disposition.

"Can't an' ya know it. Me an' Shane an' Connor would stop ya." James patronized, sneering at her. Noelle promptly replied by sticking her tongue out at him and blowing a raspberry.

"Real mature, Snow." James laughed in spite of himself, tempted to blow one back. Oh how he wished he could tickle her into submission! If only it weren't for his stupid cast…

"Oh, yeah, like nine 's real mature!" Noelle shot back. Connor decided he'd had enough of the squabbling and unconsciously did what James wanted to do; he started to tickle Noelle's sensitive sides and stomach, grinning manically. With a shriek of laughter, Noelle caught the interest of Shane and Bonnie, who hadn't been previously paying attention; they decided to join in on the fun of patronizing a younger sibling. Noelle was dumped into James' lap so their three other kids could tickle her while James held her down as best he could. Mariabella, Eadbard, and Elizabeth found the five children exactly like that, all three looking a bit suspicious.

"Noelle started it." Connor, the first to notice the adults' arrival, explained. At his words, all movement stopped, and Noelle was finally able to breath again.

"Did she now?" Eadbard asked, eyeing all five of his brood with equal amounts of doubt.

"Yeah, she was tryin' ta get ta Izzy an' be annoyin' like usual." James said, ruffling his sister's hair to soften his words.

"I don' see why I couldn' see Izzy. Grown up talk, shmome um talk." Noelle pouted, getting to her feet to dry her mirthful tears. Elizabeth smiled down at her, crouching down so they were eye level.

"Well, Noelle, be thankful for your brothers. You would've encountered a very angry Izzy, and we wouldn't want that. Would we?" Elizabeth fibbed, not wanting to reveal the true nature of the talk she'd had with her relatives. Noelle was too young in her eyes to see the world as it was; it was best, in Elizabeth's opinion, to let her keep the rose colored glasses on as long as possible.

"No." Noelle replied, eyes wide and innocent; she even shook her head in the nugatory.

"Izzy is just a bit tired now, so let's go home, eat, and sleep like a log. I'll carry you, if you want." Elizabeth grinned, holding out her arms. Noelle raced into them, hugging Elizabeth tightly with her little arms.

"You silly, Izzy – logs don't sleep!" Noelle snickered, crowing in delight when Elizabeth lifted her up and swung her about.

"Yes, quite silly of me. Only magical logs sleep!" Elizabeth said, putting a wet, exaggerated kiss on top of Noelle's curly auburn locks. Noelle pulled a face, but she was inwardly pleased.

"_Magical_ logs?" She asked, completely taken aback. None of her fairy tale books mentioned magical logs! It was unheard of!

"_Magical_ logs. Unicorns play with them." Elizabeth confirmed, following her sniggering uncle out of the hospital with Bonnie at her side. The triplets were all gathered around them like a trio of short, tiny, way too young knights in shining armor. It was downright adorable.

"Izzy, you should get me a unicorn for Christmas."

"I'll put in a good word to Santa and we'll see, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

- (Crappy break line) -

Eadbard and Mariabella were reluctant to let Elizabeth go bright and early with Jane and Charles to see Darcy. They didn't believe that the kidnapping had happened solely because of her since her fellow abduct-ee was, quite frankly, filthy stinking rich. Sure, they knew Bill Collins was the kidnapper, but with someone like Darcy also taken, even they had to wonder. Only when Jane and Charles promised not to leave Elizabeth's side in addition to not going anywhere near the room where Bill Collins was being treated in did they let her go.

Elizabeth was silent on the drive over to the hospital, gushing in her mind about Darcy like a tween would about their favorite movie star or pop singer… or like how Cat and Lydia wouldn't shut up about the senior football quarterback at Meryton High. That thought made Elizabeth pull back some, restraining to the more adult like mental swoons about Darcy's manly torso and how he didn't flinch much when he was in pain. When they arrived at the hospital, Jane held Elizabeth back, letting Charles go on ahead of them to forewarn Darcy of their coming.

"Are you okay, Lizzie? You were so quiet coming here; if you want to go back home, Charles and I will completely understand. We won't force you to be here if you don't want to be." Jane inquired quietly, grasping Elizabeth's hands firmly in her own. She had a feeling something was wrong with Elizabeth, but _what_ she didn't know.

"I'm fine, Jane… just really, _really_ excited." Elizabeth replied, grinning widely. It was a grin Jane recognized; the grin was identical to her sister Mary's when someone mentioned Heath Ledger. Jane blinked in confusion, wondering how Elizabeth could have gone from merely talking to Darcy to idolizing him.

"About seeing _Darcy_? In a _hospital_?" Jane asked, incredulous, trying to make sense of what was happening. She wasn't one to judge, but Darcy had been recently putting his nose into business where it didn't belong. Other than being Charles' best and oldest friend, Jane couldn't see the man's appeal, personality wise (because, although she was married in addition to being completely in love with Charles, she could still recognize a handsome man when she saw one).

"Well, yes. He's _Angel_, Jane." Elizabeth enthused, biting her lower lip exultantly. Just saying it aloud made her want to giggle, and Elizabeth did not _giggle_ for a _man_. That was far too much like Lydia and Cat for her to even think about doing it.

"Angel…?" Jane was completely dumbfounded until the whole story bubbled out of Elizabeth. After the tale was told, Jane couldn't honestly say it sounded or didn't sound like Darcy. He had interrupted something that hadn't concerned him, but it had been purely altruistic, unlike how he was behaving now in Jane's eyes.

"You're sure it's Darcy?" She pressed, not completely sold on the idea that Darcy could think of someone other than himself.

"Well… I'm not 100% positive, more like 99.9%… because he didn't answer… but they look like the same person – if the age difference is taken into consideration." Elizabeth deflated somewhat, scrambling mentally for something solidly connecting Angel to Darcy. There was a large percentage of people that had been curly blonds when they were young; Darcy wasn't the only one.

"Well, that sounds pretty positive to me, but, sweetie, please don't go rushing in only to get hurt. Darcy isn't… not only his looks could have changed over the years." Jane said, finally, giving Elizabeth's hands a squeeze. She didn't want to crush Elizabeth's fantasy, but she also didn't want _Darcy_ to inadvertently do it, either. From what she knew of Darcy, Jane could sadly admit she wouldn't put it past him, and that was really saying something. Jane's words brought Elizabeth a little bit more down from her high, conveying forth the memories of the night before when Darcy had been sporting an ego that was as big as his bank account most likely was. While Jane could be right, Darcy had also saved her again from his own volition. Perhaps he hadn't changed so much? Holding on tightly to her childhood ideals about Darcy, Elizabeth let Jane lead her to his hospital room on the fifth floor, holding her breath as they approached the open doorway.

"No, Charles, why in the bloody hell would I bleeding fancy a little girl like her?"

Darcy's irate voice stopped Jane and Elizabeth in their tracks not two feet from the room. Elizabeth's heart seemed to stop when she realized Darcy was talking about _her_.

"I dunno, I just thought maybe… I mean, she's a pretty gi- young woman. Lizzie is twenty-one, you know; I don't know why Carrie thought she was nineteen. She is your type, and you went back into a burning building for her, too…" Charles voice sounded meek and feeble compared to Darcy's, akin to a boy being scolded by his parents.

"Well, you thought wrong. It doesn't matter if she's twenty-one or nineteen; she'll not be anything more than an acquaintance to me and is definitely not 'my type.' Charles, you do realize I took that other bloke, the one who bloody _shot_ me, out of the cabin, too?"

Elizabeth blinked rapidly, ignoring Jane's pained expression. Darcy's words were like a falcon punch to the childhood. The situation, to her, was like telling a toddler Santa didn't exist or telling a kid that their favorite TV star from a show was actually a pedophile. It actually _hurt_, hearing words like that; for the first time in her life, Elizabeth finally felt the smarting wounds words could create. She had not been exempted form bullying as a child, but Elizabeth had always been able to let the words float off her like water off a duck's back because she knew she was better than them. Their words didn't matter to her because she knew that they were jealous, striking out because they were in pain, or just liked making others hurt. Eventually, Elizabeth wasn't bullied to her face but behind her back, but even then it still didn't matter as none of them really knew her.

But Darcy… _Darcy_ was her childhood hero. He wasn't the random bully in school; he was the person she'd always gone to once her father had become an alcoholic. Sure, he'd been Angel, a figment of her imagination after she'd been told he was dead, but she'd grown up thinking he'd be exactly the way she imagined. It had never occurred to Elizabeth that Angel could be different because she thought he'd died, so she had the free will to shape him as she wanted, making the perfect childhood companion and idol to get through tough times.

In the irony of it all, Elizabeth started laughing; she couldn't stand Jane's expression. Jane looked about ready to cry herself even though she wasn't the one insulted; Elizabeth didn't like pity or sympathy, especially not in such a public place with Darcy near by. Had Jane known Elizabeth longer, she would have realized the defenses Elizabeth was drawing up in preparation of seeing the man who'd just shattered her childhood dreams.

Her uncontrolled laughter alerted the men inside the room that the young women had arrived, probably in time to hear Darcy's spiel. The man in question scowled at the knowledge, torn between feeling ashamed of himself or proud. It wasn't like Elizabeth actually _mattered_ to him, was it? _No_. Even still, Darcy didn't even look at the doorway when Elizabeth and Jane entered with the former proclaiming Jane's joke was just _so funny_; instead, he suddenly found the view he had of the hospital parking lot much, much more interesting.

Elizabeth scrutinized the men with cool eyes. Darcy didn't even have the gall to face her; she wanted to laugh again. His face was clean, but the limp, lifelessness of his hair that was shining unnaturally in the room lighting told her he hadn't showered. Darcy also had a beard growing, it seemed, as he also hadn't shaved. His face wasn't the only thing hairy; beneath the bandages trapping his right arm to his chest, wiry black hair danced up his toned stomach to his clavicle, standing out as a dark contrast against the milky whiteness of his skin. Even with the Texas tan (1) and obvious lack of bathing, Darcy was still criminally striking.

"All the pretty ones are jerks, after all…" Elizabeth muttered to herself, all traces of mirth gone from her face. Her softly spoken words caught Darcy's attention.

"What?" Darcy finally faced Elizabeth, a bit startled. The hair he remembered as pitch black was now an inviting myriad of browns and reds, somehow making her amber eyes even more enigmatic and alluring. Devoid of all the dark make-up and dressed casually in jeans and a faded, "T-Rex hates push-ups" tee, Elizabeth looked every inch her age (and his type). A chill passed down his spine at the intensity of the look she was giving him; Darcy couldn't tell if it was a bad or a good sign.

"I said—"

"Your hair – wasn't it black yesterday? Or is that a memory made by the Rohypnol?" Darcy interrupted, a new puzzle set forth. The words Elizabeth had murmured didn't matter with the mystery of her hair in the way. Elizabeth hadn't looked like a black-haired person to Darcy, anyways, from what little he remembered of her.

"Yes, I washed the dye out. What's Rohypnol?" Elizabeth sighed, exasperated. How boorish was he going to get? Was he going to start answering for her or something?

"Oh. I thought…" _… your hair looks so much better this way_.

"Never mind. Rohypnol is a sleeping drug, tasteless and colorless; it knocks you out and wipes your memory clean. It's the preferred drug used by rapists looking for a shag." Darcy explained, scowling deeply at his thoughts. Elizabeth had to want something from him if she was staying even though she'd heard him slight her; he couldn't – he _wouldn't_ do anything about her and her subtle attractiveness. The opinion of Elizabeth wanting something from him made Darcy's skin crawl. Everyone was the same once they realized who he was, everyone – women especially.

"_You may be pretty, Elizabeth, but you're not pretty enough to tempt me_." Darcy thought, glaring at the young woman in his thoughts. His glower remained on Elizabeth for her entire visit, but he didn't speak anymore, loosing himself in his own mind. When Jane wanted to leave, Charles held back while the girls left.

"You don't have to be such an ass, you know. The Darce I know wouldn't insult people he doesn't know out loud – might think it, yeah, but not voice it in public. Whatever has got your panties in a bunch shouldn't be let out on innocent people like Lizzie. Without her, you very well could have bled to death." Charles said, matching his friend's countenance. He'd never seen Darcy so riled up except when Georgiana, Darcy's sister, was being put down.

"Without Lizzie, Charles, I wouldn't bloody be here." Darcy growled, gazing out the window in place of seeing Charles' hurt and accusing look. It unsettled him that he didn't want to call Elizabeth "Lizzie;" to him, she still looked like a kitten he wanted placed in his lap, purring, sans cat costume or not.

- (Crappy break line) -

Darcy glared contemptuously at his reflection in the semi-foggy mirror. It stared right back just as fiercely, making him want to break the glass. Everything looked identical like it had been before Halloween, before that Bill Collins fellow, before Elizabeth Bennet and Bill Collins' fixation on her. Darcy could see his reflection's muscles tense in ire before he called, not very calmly, to Richard, "Would you turn the telly down? It's distracting!"

Darcy was trying to shave, but with his right hand shaking too violently to do anything but cut his face to ribbons, he had to use his left. His left side wasn't weaker than his right, but it was extremely awkward for someone who was right-handed, like Darcy, to do things with his left hand. The television wasn't exactly distracting, but Darcy wanted to blame something other than his meddlesome thoughts. The flesh that was puckered on the entry and exit wounds, whiter than his natural skin tone, was all he had left externally of the bullet injury he'd received, but with a broken clavicle and nicked scapula, there was still internal damage. Even after the bones mended themselves, the doctors told him there would be permanent injury to his muscles up to a 10% deficiency.

And for _what_? Some _girl_ that had captured the attention of an obsessive-compulsive man who would do anything to have her? The girl that he was told he'd got along with, sort of, but had no recollection of it, again because of said obsessive-compulsive man? Elizabeth Bennet wasn't even pretty! At that errant thought, the image of Elizabeth dressed smartly in a neat pantsuit for the court case was pressed forth into Darcy's mind. When she gave a decent enough effort, Elizabeth was actually very nice looking, beautiful even. Every time Darcy had seen her since the time she overheard him in the hospital, she'd eyed him with distaste; he could tell from the minimal scrunching of her nose and the way her eyebrows quirked downwards over her soulful eyes for a few seconds before she went apathetic.

… It was utterly adorable.

"Mooning over Lizzie again, eh?" Richard sniggered, leaning in the doorway. He'd watched his cousin stare at Elizabeth every time they saw the young woman, and Richard couldn't blame him. Elizabeth was a challenging little imp, always rearing to contradict Darcy of prove him wrong; it only helped her that she looked becoming in her formal wear.

"I don't fancy her, Dickie." Darcy sneered, flinging a bit of shaving cream at Richard; it landed on the floor before reaching its intended target.

"Oh, yeah, you're just ogling her every waking moment because you loathe her, right?" Richard grinned broadly, rolling his eyes.

"I know, it must be hard, hating that fine bum of hers, but—"

"I do _not_ stare at her bum!" Darcy snapped, accidentally cutting himself for maybe the fifteenth time. He'd only stared once. _Once_! And that was only because of Richard's nagging. It wasn't like staring at a woman's appealing anatomy meant anything! Unless you were a sad, sick, perverted person, which Darcy was most assuredly not.

"Okay, then, her legs. I know you're a leg man." Richard's grin couldn't possibly get bigger when he spoke. How he loved taunting Darcy to the point that Darcy practically foamed at the mouth.

"You're a leg man… and a breast man… and an arse man. You stare at every woman that fits your impeccably low standards. Does that mean you want to shag every one of them?" Darcy grumbled, a hint of pink forming on his face. He was a leg man, and Elizabeth's legs were most definitely… _no_! This was all Richard's fault, it really was. Darcy was going to maintain his denial as long as he could.

"Well, n—you want to shag little Lizzie? Oh, this is rich! What about Leslie, eh?" Richard howled, tears of mirth forming in his crow's feet as he laughed heartily at his fuming cousin. Darcy whirled around, brandishing his razor threateningly at Richard; he looked hilarious with half his face covered in shaving cream, the other poorly shaved and covered with nicks, cheeks and ears reddening by the second.

"One, I do not want to shag Elizabeth Bennet. That's absurd. Two, Leslie has got nothing to do with this. Three, get out before I beat you to your senses with this." Darcy growled, knowing Richard could probably fry an egg on his face if he tried. To add to Darcy's embarrassment, Richard only laughed harder, grabbing the doorframe for support.

"Four, I do not like Elizabeth Bennet. At all." Darcy added for finality, turning back to the mirror to proceed in his abysmal attempt at shaving left-handed.

"Right, of course you don't. An old bloke like you can't possibly fancy a chipper young bird like little Lizzie." Richard commented once his laughter had abated, watching Darcy gamely.

"She's more cat-like than bird, Dick." Darcy avoided replying in earnest, trying to concentrate, but with Richard's wide smile and knowing look, he couldn't help but feel like his cousin was up to something.

"I'd say more lady-like, if you know what I mean." Richard replied, waggling his eyebrows; Darcy just rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, Dick."

"It's not like you haven't noticed, either, Crispy. Anyways, I've got Gee and Leslie on Skype… you 'distracted' me." Richard gave Darcy a cat-ate-the-canary grin before leaving. It hadn't been the TV making all the noise Darcy had found 'distracting'.

"What? Richard!" Darcy cried, forgetting his was in the middle of shaving with only a towel on, exiting the bathroom of their hotel room, finding Richard's laptop open on a bed with Georgiana and Leslie's smiling faces.

"Put some clothes on and finish shaving, Crispy!"

"Hey, brother!"

Darcy blanched, glaring daggers at Richard.

"I'm going to get you back, Dickie. Better sleep with one eye open from now on." He threatened, heading back into the bathroom to quickly finish shaving and get dressed. Darcy should have really expected it, he thought, putting his right arm in the sling after pulling on a shirt; Richard was the type to make a Skype call while he was showering and then lure him out afterwards when he wasn't clothed. Upon leaving the bathroom for the second time, Darcy found Richard relaying who Elizabeth was to Georgiana and Leslie. It was the latter that noticed Darcy's arrival.

"Oh, look, Crispy is out! Hey, Crispy!"

Darcy gave a dull wave to his former babysitter, Leslie Annesley. She was a smart woman just shy of thirty-six, barely seven years older than Darcy. Leslie was Emma Reynolds', the housekeeper at the Darcy home of Pemberley, daughter; she had married Parker Annesley when she was twenty-five and he thirty. Parker had died not three years later thanks to a shooting while he was on call in the Middle East for the British armed forces. Leslie had also been Darcy's first crush, kiss, and partner.

"Hi, Leslie, Gee. How's Miss Em treating you?" Darcy inquired, sitting down on the floor next to Richard. Because the both of them were quite tall, their heads were eye-level with the computer screen.

"How do you think, brother?" Georgiana teased, rolling her nearly sightless bright blue eyes. She was every inch the high-maintenance girl any sixteen-year-old was, and yet Georgiana was the sweetest thing one could meet. It took her over an hour getting ready in the mornings to primp and make her honey colored wavy locks look "perfect," but it took her about a minute to charm anyone she met.

"That's just Crispy being socially retarded, Gee, and you know that. Plus, he's embarrassed 'cause Leslie is there with you hearing about his little Kitten. Do you know he doesn't call her 'Lizzie' or 'Elizabeth'? No, he calls her—"

"Shut up, Dickie. I can tell Leslie and Gee all about your fawning over her friend, Charlotte—"

"Like that's anything compared to you over little Lizzie—"

"Boys will be boys…" Leslie sighed, making Georgiana giggle. They were forced to wait out the little scuffle that was customary when Richard and Darcy were together until Darcy turned abruptly to them, ears bright red.

"How is your playing coming along, Gee?" He asked, pinching Richard when his cousin made a move to speak.

"Spectacularly! Julliard has contacted me recently. They want me to attend when I go to university." Georgiana enthused, wearing a bright grin. Darcy smiled back softly, pride filling his chest; his sister was blossoming into a beautiful young woman.

"That's great, Gee." He said, wanting to give her a hug or a pat on the head since both annoyed her greatly.

"Gee is just being modest, Crispy. She's gotten so many letters recently; it's so hard to keep track of them all! Mum and I have kept them in a box. You're going to have to check them out when you get back." Leslie chipped in, ruffling Georgiana's hair to the girl's exasperation.

"That won't be the only thing he'll be checking ou—oof!"

Darcy interrupted Richard by punching him in the arm. Leslie chuckled, shaking her head.

"Gee, Dick, can I talk to William alone, please?" She asked, causing Darcy to stiffen. He didn't like where the conversation was going already.

"Sure. I'll call you later, brother!" Georgiana giggled, knowing exactly what was going on.

"I love you, Gee." Darcy said before his sister disappeared. Richard gave Darcy's good shoulder a pat before departing from their hotel room.

"I did the researching you asked me to do, about that Bill Collins bloke." Leslie stated grimly. Darcy nodded for her to go on.

"It turns out Catherine was his tutor for some remedial history and English courses over the summer between his high school and college years. For some reason, he venerated her – it's quite probable because his mother died when he was young and he had no aunts or grandmothers. She was the first leading female figure he'd met other than his teachers." She said, licking her lips. Bill had also gotten close to Catherine's daughter, Anne, but Leslie didn't see it fit to tell Darcy that when he was already at his wits end with the man. It would be like adding gasoline to the fire.

"That's it? I never met him, did I?" Darcy questioned, eyebrows drawing together. Bill Collins had known exactly who he was, even how he was related to Catherine.

"I don't think so. I bet the only reason why he knows you is through Catherine; you know how she loves to brag about you. It's a rare day she doesn't mention you." Leslie laughed, thinking back to when she'd met the "illustrious" Catherine de Bourgh. The old woman never seemed to shut up about how proud she was of Darcy.

"Yeah… that's true. Thank you for doing that for me." Darcy laughed softly, also thinking of his aunt.

"Hey, William, do you really like this girl, Elizabeth?" Leslie asked after she was done reminiscing.

"That doesn't matter, does it?" Darcy mumbled, hanging up the Skype call before Leslie had a change to reply; he shut down the laptop as well, just in case she tried calling back. Whether Darcy liked Elizabeth Bennet or not was irrelevant; he wasn't staying long in America. That is, _if_ he even liked her… which he _didn't_.

- (Crappy break line) -

Elizabeth was slowly getting back into the rhythm of her new life. The Halloween episode and its affects were finally going away as the end of November neared. Newspaper, magazine, and News stations alike had stopped popping up randomly for interviews, the court case was coming to a close, and Elizabeth was finally going to stop seeing Darcy so frequently. After the revelation at the hospital, all she felt towards him was disappointment and resentment. Even though she had no right to feel let down because of him not turning out like her childhood fantasy, Elizabeth couldn't help it.

"Want to have a girl's night out soon to celebrate the end of all this crap? Just me, you, and Charlotte?"

Elizabeth turned from the bookshelf she was tidying to her coworker, Amelia Younge. Amelia was also a college student, albeit a bit older than Elizabeth at twenty-four, and had grown considerably on Elizabeth from their first day working together when Amelia had been almost two hours late. Elizabeth wasn't going to hold it against her much since, if Amelia hadn't been late, she wouldn't have bonded with Jane over the wild goose chase they'd had. Amelia was also a bisexual who stated Elizabeth was "too cute for words," hitting on Elizabeth every chance she got. Elizabeth wasn't homophobic or adverse to homosexuals, but she had her limits to what she'd tolerate from Amelia. She wasn't sure if she liked the idea of having a "girl's night out" while Amelia was still making passes at her.

"I dunno. I'll have to see if Charlotte has got a night off soon." Elizabeth said, facing the bookshelf again. Having a girl's night out with Charlotte, and maybe Jane, however, sounded very appealing; she was just waiting for an opportune moment to really introduce the two. Charlotte was Elizabeth's best friend from her younger days when she'd visited her aunt and uncle. The Lucas household had been the Gardiner's next door neighbors, and during the summer, Charlotte played with Elizabeth when she visited even though Charlotte was almost six years Elizabeth's senior. With both girls lacking friends but making up for that with an abundance of imagination, it didn't take long for them to become inseparable.

"Hey, who was that guy in the case with you, again?" Amelia asked, going behind the nearby customer service desk. It was a slow day near closing, so the girls had ample enough time to talk.

"Eh, Bill Collins?" Elizabeth guessed, pulling out a book from the shelf that didn't belong there; she walked to the kid's section where it did belong and put it with the other copies.

"No, the smokin' one." Amelia corrected when Elizabeth came back and joined her behind the customer service counter.

"Will Darcy?" Elizabeth said, nonplussed as to what Amelia would want with Darcy. Amelia was unable to answer because of a customer coming up to the desk with a book to return.

"Yeah, Will Darcy. His name sounds familiar for some reason." Amelia shrugged once the return had been handled. His name was bugging her, but she couldn't remember why, exactly. Darcy was definitely nota past boyfriend of hers, but something told her he was possibly related to one.

"Well, he owns a publishing company… and we do work in a Barnes and Noble…" Elizabeth hazarded, checking the time on her cell phone. They had a half hour before closing, and she'd promised to have dinner with Jane and Charles not shortly afterwards.

"Maybe that's it." Amelia sighed, although she didn't believe it. It was rare for her to notice anything but the pictures on covers, let alone a publishing company that would be on the inside of the book a few pages in.

"Hey, d'you mind if I head out now? I've got—"

"Plans with a new boyfriend? I wouldn't be surprised with all the media attention you've been getting lately." Amelia laughed, winking.

"Yeah, I've got plans with a boy friend… and his wife. They wanted to take me out." Elizabeth joshed, rolling her eyes. Sometimes Amelia was subtle, sometimes she wasn't; this was a prime example of when she wasn't.

"Sure, Lizzie, go ahead. I'll cover for you. Jane and Charles, right?"

"Right. Thanks a bunch!" Elizabeth said, ducking out of the customer service desk and waving good-bye. Forty-five minutes later she was waiting for her friends to pick her up in one of their snazzy 2012 model cars. Elizabeth was unsurprised when a shiny, bright red Mercedes Benz stopped right in front of her aunt and uncle's.

"Aunt Mari, Uncle Eddie, I'm off!" Elizabeth yelled before quickly leaving their small abode, dashing down to the street where the car purred audibly. Because of the tinted windows, Elizabeth didn't see Darcy until she opened the back door.

"I'll go to the other si—"

"No, I'll move." Darcy interrupted sullenly, unbuckling and scooting over to the other side of the car behind Jane in the passenger's seat. Elizabeth said nothing, slipping into the warm seat, eyeing him with confusion. He had to draw his legs up some to keep his knees from jabbing into the seat in front of him, but by sitting behind Jane, he had a bit more legroom than behind Charles as his friend was also tall. Elizabeth wasn't sure why Darcy would have sat behind Charles in the first place if he would have been a bit more comfortable behind Jane, and why he had to sit in the back at all was beside her. She knew Jane enough to know Jane would've traded seats with him so he could sit normally in the small car.

"Darce thinks he can fit in the back of cars still. Silly, silly man." Charles chortled, noticing Elizabeth's gaze as he looked in the rearview mirror to see if the road was clear.

"If you're uncomfortable at all, Darcy, I'd be more than happy to—"

"I know. I'm fine, Jane." Darcy intercepted, growing uncomfortable. He was well aware Jane didn't particularly enjoy his company and didn't want to sit in the front with Charles only to receive what Charles assumed were sneaky glances when Elizabeth arrived. It would all be too much of a bother, and, besides, he could rest his arm on his legs with out hunching over this way. To Darcy, it was a win-win situation.

"Where are we going? Y'all never told me." _Or that Darcy was coming, too_. Elizabeth thought, taking a quick glance at the man in question. If anything, he looked just as uncomfortable as she.

"Oh, we didn't? Well, we're going to this new Italian place called Benito's. Carrie told me what you said about our names, and I thought this would be a great opportunity to have a laugh. Carrie is meeting us there, by the way; Dick said to tell you he was sorry he couldn't make it." Charles replied pleasantly as he drove, filling the car with a cheerful atmosphere. Elizabeth wore a smile, but inwardly she was wondering if she could make up something to get out of the dinner she was no longer looking forward to. From the sounds of it and the way her companions were dressed, she'd underestimated Charles and Jane. Darcy and Charles were both wearing slacks and a nice button-down shirt under their jackets while Jane was wearing a long skirt and a sweater; from what Elizabeth knew of Caroline, the woman would be dressed to the nines an then some, just for Darcy. Elizabeth felt horribly under-dressed in her jeans and turtleneck.

"So, tell us, how did you meet Bill Collins? If you don't mind my asking, of course." Charles asked after a few minutes of silence had befallen the quartet.

"Oh, it's nothing, really! Well, I met him…" Elizabeth told her story of encountering Bill, all too aware of Darcy's incessant gaze. She wished he'd stop since the car felt stifling while he watched her. When they finally arrived at Benito's, Elizabeth had rehashed all of what she knew of Bill and had told a few stories about her younger cousins that made Jane and Charles laugh heartily; Darcy had snickered as well, surprising Elizabeth. Ever since hearing his nasty words in the hospital about her, she'd forgotten he had the ability to smile and laugh; on top of that, Darcy had never seemed to like her afterwards, always disagreeing with what she said.

Like Charles had said, Caroline was waiting for them, already sipping on a cup of rich red wine, meticulously made up in a stunning, although a bit gaudy, royal blue dress. As soon as she set eyes on Darcy, Caroline was all smiles, patting the seat next to her invitingly; once more, Darcy astonished Elizabeth by ignoring Caroline and sitting between her and Charles instead, leaving Jane to sit next to Caroline. At their round table, an empty seat rested between Elizabeth and Caroline, presumably the chair Richard would have taken had he been able to come.

Their waiter, seeing the rest of the party had come, promptly came over to the table and offered to get them all wine. All but Darcy declined, preferring a Coke to alcohol for dinner; after he returned with their refreshments, the quintet ordered their meals. Charles filled the table with talking and laughter until their food arrived, a companionable calm falling onto their table. Elizabeth was unable to eat when she noticed Darcy struggling to cut his fried eggplant efficiently with his trembling right arm.

"Give it here." Elizabeth sighed, putting down her silverware and pushing her bowl of fettuccini alfredo away.

"Excuse me?" Darcy asked, sounding affronted; Elizabeth just rolled her eyes, wondering how obtuse he could get.

"I'm tired of seeing you fail epically at cutting _eggplant_. Put your arm back in that sling and ask for help next time." She said, pulling his plate in front of her and taking the silverware from his hands. Darcy's ears burned red as he did what he was told, pouting slightly; he ignored Charles' poorly hidden sniggers. Caroline, however, wasn't pleased like her brother; instead, she stared daggers at Elizabeth, willing the girl to take heed. She wanted to help Darcy, not watch and let some random friend of Jane's do it!

"Oh, Lizzie, are you free on Black Friday?" Jane inquired, elbowing her husband in the ribs to try and get him to stop laughing even though it was funny that Darcy had followed Elizabeth's orders.

"Yeah, why?" Elizabeth replied, giving Darcy his dinner and utensils back once she was done slicing the eggplant into bite-sized pieces.

"Charles and I are going shopping and were wondering if you want to come along. It's just for fun – maybe getting a head start on buying Christmas presents. What do you say?"

Seeing Jane's shining, earnest face, Elizabeth couldn't say no. Darcy and Caroline were also invited, but they both declined.

"I have to work on finishing my latest novel. Books don't write themselves, you know!" Caroline tittered, looking meaningfully at Darcy.

"I'm sure I'll be tied up at the office with Dick, so don't count on me being able to go." Darcy mumbled to his dinner, morosely spearing a bit of eggplant with his fork. Elizabeth restrained herself to a smile. Finally, she was going to be able to hang out with Jane and Charles with out Darcy or Caroline present!

**A/N**: _(1) The tan line you get from wearing a tank top. (I did not make this up, lol.) And in case anyone was wondering, people with bad eyesight/blindness can put on make-up, etc. Also, I made up the restaurant – just in case anyone was wondering. xD_

_Sorry for the long wait, y'all… I had quite a few projects dumped on me, ell behind in math because of tennis, and was sick for an entire week (it was torture). Plus, I had all those cyber cookies to make! ;P Until next time!_

_~ Tobi_


	4. The Chase is On

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: My nose grows longer every day…  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Harriate Slate-Thing-Hari-Hu: <span>I'm somewhat surprised you saw her for who she was. I'm not going to spoil anything, though. ;P  
><span>Hrhdana<span>: Not at all, just a wee bit annoyed. Thanks for reviewing. :)  
><span>Lena<span>: Thank you. :D  
><span>Anon.<span>: I update as fast as I can. X3 Thanks!

**- The Chase is On -**

Elizabeth sighed, glaring impatiently at the shelf. The movies were supposed to be in alphabetical order, but they were in any random order as soon as you got to the first letter, like "a"… or "s", in her case, as she was looking for a Scooby Doo film for her younger cousins.

"That's the third sigh from you in the past… ehh, five minutes? Well, any who, need help?" The young man who worked at the Blockbuster asked, smiling widely. With kind eyes and long, floppy hair, he was a sight for sore eyes. Elizabeth tried to smile back, figuring it looked more like a grimace than anything.

"My younger cousins are horrible. First they want Pokemon… next it's The Land Before Time… now it's Scooby Doo, and I can't find them. By the time I'll find one Scooby movie, they'll want something else with the way my luck is going." She said, resisting the urge to sigh again.

"On top of my already tiring day because I want to finish my project before Black Friday and find someone who will cover my shift then… it's just one thing after another." Elizabeth grumbled, mostly to herself, unaware the young man had heard her.

"Going shopping, eh? Well, I can help fix the spot you're in. You're in the adult section; all the Scooby movies are in the kid's. I love Scooby as much as the next person, so sometimes I'll go to the adult's section by habit, too, looking for him and the gang!" He laughed, patting Elizabeth on the back while she turned bright red. She hadn't even realized she was in the wrong part of the store!

"What kind of project is it? You seem pretty out of it, no offense. Oh, and my name is James, by the way." James said, tapping his nametag smartly. Shaking his bangs out of his eyes, he led Elizabeth to the kid's section where the Scooby Doo movies were in abundance.

"Eh, a research paper about some dead guy… but aren't they all? None taken. I'm Elizabeth." Elizabeth replied, doing eeny-meeny-miny-moe mentally to choose which of the Scooby Doo films she'd rent out for her cousins. James chortled loudly at her half attempt at a joke, pretending to wipe a tear of mirth from his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I don't have to deal with that anymore. I'm going to med school… gotta pay the bills somehow." James winked, taking the DVD Elizabeth had taken off the rack, leading her to the counter.

"So, I'm guessing you're not getting any videos, right? Research paper and all. Can I ask why you really want to go out on Black Friday?" James inquired as he rung her up, secretly putting a discount on the film.

"Well, I just moved here for school, and I haven't had time alone with my friend and her husband with out the interference of his snotty twin or his jerk of a best friend." Elizabeth explained, shrugging mentally. It wasn't like James struck he as the creepy stalker type like Bill, so she didn't seem the harm in telling him her reasons on wanting to go out. Besides, she hadn't said where they were going.

"Really? Married already? How old are they? … Eh, that is, if—"

"I don't mind you asking? Well, they're both twenty-three… I know, bit early for marriage and all, but they're perfect for each other in every possible way." Elizabeth snickered, making James shrug and rub the back of his head.

"As long as they're happy, I don't see any problem. Well, I better go see if any other nice girl is looking for Scooby movies in the adult's section." He winked again, handing Elizabeth the rental in a bag with the receipt. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, although she was grinning. Outside the store, she checked he receipt and saw the discount he'd given her along with the note he'd written.

"_Might as well take a chance to see if we've got more than Scooby in common. Call me as (987) 654-3210. – James Denny ;)_"

- (Crappy break line) -

On Black Friday morning, Darcy fully intended to go to work and stay there the whole day despite Charles' constant nagging to "take a day off" (which Darcy most certainly did _not_ do). So he donned a crisp suit, drove himself to the Darcy Publishing building stationed in the middle of New York, New York, rode the elevator up to his office, and got to work. Officially, Darcy had come back to America with Richard to "check up" on the American branch as he hadn't when he'd recently visited for the Bingley wedding; unofficially, and the real reason why both he and Richard were there, they were in America because Charles had a "pressing matter" that "couldn't be said over the phone."

While he waited for his computer system to turn on, Darcy mulled over his thoughts, considering the options. Charles and Jane had no idea how unbelievably hard it was to raise a child, and with both of them still in school, it looked like a mistake waiting to happen from every angle Darcy looked at it. He'd tried to say it as nicely as he could when Charles proposed the idea, but it had unintentionally come out as an insult to both Charles and Jane. Since then, Darcy had remedied a sort-of apology and a better line than, "Are you bloody _insane_?" to give to Charles concerning the matter. When Darcy noticed the computer was asking him to log in, he did so, and continued on to open up the Internet to access his email. As he was just getting to read an email from Harry Price, the man he'd left in charge of the London branch of Darcy Publishing, Richard came boisterously into the room.

"Crispy, mate, you've got an early appointment!" He crowed cheerfully (suspiciously too cheerfully, in Darcy's opinion), slamming three pats down on Darcy's right shoulder. The exploding pain was almost instantaneous.

"Richard – have you no – bloody hell that hurts, you bastard!" Darcy seethed through his clenched teeth, cradling his still-wounded shoulder protectively into his lap.

"Oh, is _that_ your right shoulder? _Damn_. I guess you've got to head home now, haven't you? Lucky you! Too bad on missing out on that early meeting with that shapely redhead." Richard carried on exultantly, wearing a smug grin when Darcy finally faced him.

"I haven't got an early meeting with a… oh. _Oh_." Darcy realized what Richard meant in seconds. Caroline Bingley was making an impromptu meeting and was probably on her way at that very moment. Richard had just saved him from a long, grueling morning (and maybe forced lunch) with a woman he could barely stand under normal circumstances; when Caroline was in her self-titled "work mode," she was unbearable to Darcy. All she did was slather on praise from other companies or notable people in the world and say how, one day, she'd really like to have her own happy ending, too, all the while winking and leaning towards him so he could see whatever lacy concoction was beneath her blouse. This farce may work with other men, but not with Darcy.

"Yeah, _oh_. The elevators are down, if you know what I mean, so take the stairs. Anyways, you're getting a bit of flab not—"

"For that comment, I won't owe you anything." Darcy smirked, wincing slightly as he rose from his chair. Richard's mouth fell open in outrage.

"I was just kidding! You so owe me! Oi! Crispy!" He cried, following Darcy to the stairs and glaring down after his cousin who was pretending to be deaf. When Darcy got to his car after the invigorating walk down the stairs, the only exercise he'd gotten as of late, he pulled the pain pill bottle he'd been prescribed from his jacket pocket; since they made him sleepy, he decided against taking one at the present, instead waiting until he got back to his hotel room. Originally, he and Richard had been staying at Charles' house, but after the attempted kidnapping, Darcy and Richard had moved to a hotel room under the pretenses of not wanting to get blood on Charles' new sheets. Charles understood that as it was: a front to stay away from Caroline wanting to become Darcy's personal maid.

An hour later, Darcy had changed out of his suit to a pair of old, tattered jeans and a long-sleeved muscle shirt that had seen better days, had taken a pain pill, and was reclining on his bed, flipping though the channels. The only things that seemed to be on at seven in the morning were toddler cartoons and various news channels he couldn't be bothered to watch. When his cell started ringing, Darcy saw it as a blessed interference from his boredom and flicked it open with out looking at the caller I.D.

"Darcy. Speak to me." He said automatically, thinking it was a call from the office.

"Sheesh, you really do answer like that all the time." The voice laughed merrily into Darcy's ear; he automatically recognized it as his best friend's voice.

"Charles, what do you want?" Darcy sighed, wanting to say he was at work, however, he refrained form doing so since it'd be lying. He detested dishonesty of any kind with a passion.

"Well, a little birdie told me that you're in your hotel room and have nothing to do. That little birdie, whom we shall call 'Dick' for the heck of it, also told me you should be dying of boredom by now and should be able to join Jane, Lizzie, and me in our Black Friday shopping even though all the good sales are all gone by now." Charles teased; Darcy could clearly see the self-satisfied smile decorating Charles' face. At the mention of Elizabeth's name coupled with the knowledge Caroline would not make an appearance, Darcy seriously considered going.

"As soon as I get over the drowsiness my pill induces, I could go back to work on my laptop, Charles. I don't think I'll be joining you three." He said, ultimately turning down the offer. Darcy had already paid too much attention to Elizabeth already; it was best not to get her hopes up. Certainly, if Richard and Charles noticed him staring too much and too long to be proper, a woman, whom he understood were more perceptible to those types of things, should have become aware of it as well.

"Come on, Darcy! It'll be fun! Maybe you could even find something for Gee, something special. Her seventeenth birthday is coming up soon," Charles begged, "If not for Gee, for me. I don't know what type of shopper Lizzie is, but I'll need some guy-time eventually since Jane is a shop-a-holic."

"Fine, fine. If you really want me with you, Charles, you're going to have to be my ride. I don't trust myself to drive anywhere currently." Darcy gave in, a pair of amber eyes dancing in his imagination. He was such a fool.

"Awww yeah! Bro, just come down to the lobby. My little birdie friend Dick also said you'd probably want a ride. I left Jane and Lizzie at the mall so Jane could shop for me in secrecy." Charles cheered, causing Darcy to hold his cell phone out from his ear.

"Stuff you and Dick." He growled into the phone once he was sure Charles was done attempting to make him go deaf, hanging up immediately afterwards. In resignation, Darcy shut off the television and hauled himself off the bed; knowing that relatively everything he was wearing was old and snug, he donned a t-shirt in addition to a denim jacket over his Under Armour. Torn between feeling curious to see how Elizabeth would be dressed outside of court and denial, Darcy went don to the hotel lobby where Charles was waiting, taking his sweet time on the stairs.

- (Crappy break line) -

"I'm glad Charlemange fell for that." Jane laughed, patting Elizabeth on the back for a job well done.

"He's pretty gullible, isn't he?" Elizabeth asked, also chuckling. Jane had asked her how they could get Charles to leave them alone in the mall, and Elizabeth had come up with the grand idea of telling him Jane wanted to do some Christmas shopping for him.

"Yes, quite. Thank you for getting him off my back, again. He may be my husband, but I still don't feel comfortable lingerie shopping with him there. It's all… _awkward_." Jane blushed heartily, heading into Victoria's Secret with Elizabeth. While Jane had been nude or in her undergarments around Charles, she still felt mortified when he came with her when she needed a new pair of panties or the like.

"I understand." Elizabeth said, even though she really didn't. First of all, she'd never gone shopping with a man that wasn't related to her, for lingerie or otherwise, and second of all, she wasn't married. If she was truly honest, the best relationship she'd ever had was when she was six and "married" to her eight-year-old neighbor, Mark Jones, until he was ten and decided it was not cool to have a pretend wife.

Twenty minutes later, after buying what she needed in addition to texting Charles she was done "shopping for him", Jane led Elizabeth around the mall, pointing out where every store was, although Elizabeth could have looked at a directory if she really needed to. They were just wasting time until Charles came back.

"Jane! Lizzie!"

Both young women turned to see Charles dragging a clearly vexed Darcy by the strap of his sling quickly towards them. Elizabeth scowled upon seeing Darcy, but she forced a smile when Charles unhanded him, stopping in front of the girls.

"Look what I found working the corner. Isn't he adorable?" Charles asked, beaming, ignoring or not noticing Darcy's murderous glare.

"The cutest. But he won't be up to scratch – look at that sling. How much did you pay for him? Too much?" Elizabeth snickered, winking at Darcy.

"Nah, I got a special discount for that. Don't worry." Charles chortled, elbowing Darcy in the ribs.

"I do not 'work the corner.'" Darcy interrupted the banter at his expense, glaring at both Charles and Elizabeth.

"Darce, you don't even know what working the corner means." Charles laughed, throwing his arm up and around Darcy's shoulders, pulling Darcy's ear down to his lips to explain. Upon hearing what it meant, Darcy's ears turned bright red, and he gave his best friend a hearty shove.

"I don't like you anymore, Charles; consider our friendship terminated." Darcy sneered, turning his back to Charles; Elizabeth laughed at Charles' misfortune while Jane, unsure if Darcy was joking or not, just smiled awkwardly.

"You hurt me, bro," Charles pouted, hiding behind his wife, "Let's leave this party pooper and go window shopping now." With Charles wanting to give Darcy the silent treatment, Elizabeth ended up walking next to him behind Jane and Charles. Finding the silence between them ridiculously annoying, she looked at Darcy from the corner of her eye, trying to see if there was anything they could talk about. It was Elizabeth's first time seeing Darcy out of a suit, so she was mentally caught off-guard by how… _old_ and _worn_ his clothes looked. While Darcy certainly had the money to blow on vintage stonewash jeans, his certainly looked like they got that appearance from him actually wearing holes into the knees, et cetera. The dark jean jacket also seemed to have had better days. Beneath the jacket, Elizabeth was elated to spy a Savage Garden shirt that was originally black but faded to the point where it looked almost brown.

"Do you still listen to them?" Elizabeth inquired, gesturing to his shirt. Darcy peered down, raising his arm in the sling to get a good view at the shirt he'd pulled on over his muscle shirt before leaving the hotel room; though it was somewhat hard to make out from the fading, it did portray the Australian duo.

"They had been my mother's favorite singers." Darcy said, shrugging slightly.

"But did you listen to them?" Elizabeth pressed, wondering how old the shirt was. She figured Darcy was too big to have fit in anything his mother could have fit into, so he either had to listen to Savage Garden or had been presented with the shirt form his mother.

"Yes… until my ears hurt. Excuse me, I… I'm…" Darcy trailed off, stopping abruptly and heading in the opposite direction. His mother had first heard of Savage Garden in 1995, and she listened to them almost non-stop until her death in 1998. After she'd died, Darcy had taken to listening to them, whether he liked it or not, just to try and remember her sweet voice singing along to the lyrics. He hadn't even realized he'd packed the shirt, and his skin crawled just thinking about it touching his skin in such an open place. Darcy viewed the shirt, which he'd bought on a whim a few years previous, as something very personal and intimate to him, something _not_ to be viewed by others. If there was something one could accuse Darcy of that would ring true, it was that he was a mama's boy through and through; it still stung thinking about her.

Darcy was able to worm his way through a department store and finagle a plain shirt, changing in the bathroom by the food court after his purchase; to not lose the Savage Garden shirt, he slipped it between his belt and his pants. Expertly weaving through the throngs of people had taken Darcy's mind off his mother, and so he found himself texting Charles to find their location. Not wanting to go off in the wrong direction from the center of the mall, Darcy milled about the deserted food court until Charles replied with, "Upstrs in coach. u made lizzie mad btw runing of lyk dat. wat hapnd?"

Even though he knew it vexed Darcy to no end, Charles never texted his friend with correct grammar, maintaining that it was faster and easier to use "text speak." Smirking and shaking his head, Darcy made his way to the escalators, texting back, "I'll be right there," completely ignoring the question at the end. By the time Darcy found them within the purse store, his shoulder was aching dully from Richard's earlier slap and the continuous bumps from people trying to get to the Black Friday sales first. Like Charles had said, Elizabeth was mad at him for "running away"; she even gave Darcy the stink eye when he approached them. When Elizabeth noticed the different shirt replacing the old Savage Garden one, she assumed it meant he couldn't bear the thought of liking the same music as she. Huffing in ire, Elizabeth turned her back to him and started helping Jane pick through the sales box, trying to find young Georgiana Darcy a nice bag for Christmas. Elizabeth had asked what Georgiana was like, and Jane was all smiles about the girl.

"Oh, Gee is wonderful. She is a musical prodigy, but Darcy has kept her away from the press and big music shows. Gee is also homeschooled back in Derbyshire, so when she's eighteen, she's going to go to apply to Julliard to see if she can get in. Gee doesn't think she will, but they'd be mental if they didn't take her." Jane had said, beaming. In addition to being a musical prodigy, Jane described Georgiana Darcy as, essentially, a smaller, younger version of herself: beautiful but unaware of it, sweet, and unassuming. Elizabeth asked her how old Georgiana was; she replied that the young Darcy was about fifteen or sixteen.

"Nothing at all like her brother." Jane had whispered solely to Elizabeth, knowing Charles, if he heard, would completely disagree. The two women had shared a secret smile, after which Charles begged to know what had been said, but Darcy arrived before Jane succumbed to Charles' persistence.

"Jane wants to get Gee a purse for Christmas – d'you see anything she might particularly like?" Charles asked, a wide grin adorning his face at his friend's appearance. Darcy looked over the box with a critical eye, knowing with her sight, that Georgiana was unlikely to fully enjoy many of the purses present.

"Something with texture or bangles… the smooth, bright ones she does like, but I do know she secretly enjoys the gaudier ones because she can actually 'see' them." Darcy explained, picking out a purse covered in sequins for an example. Elizabeth found his words odd but didn't question, intent on ignoring him for the remainder of the day.

It took some searching, but Elizabeth and Jane eventually found a purse that Darcy gave the stamp of approval to that was covered with zippers and belts in addition to being made out of leather-like material. After that, it was only window-shopping as all the good products had been bought; the quartet stayed in the mall until noon when they walked out to get lunch at a nearby McDonald's to avoid the food court crowd.

"What are you getting, Darcy?" Charles asked as they waited in line. He knew Jane was going to get the McNuggets, and he was perfectly content to split a fifty-count box with her and Elizabeth, should she want some. From what Jane had conveyed from their excursions, whenever they ate at McDonald's, she and Elizabeth always split the 20-piece McNuggets box.

"Eat from this hovel? They don't even have good _tea_." Darcy sniffed, knowing how high the calorie count from anything within McDonald's, besides their salads, would be. Elizabeth rolled her eyes; while she wouldn't exactly call Micky D's the best place to eat, it wasn't a hovel.

"Such a stiff Brit, eh? No tea, no you." Charles sniggered, shaking his head in disbelief when Darcy replied with, "Exactly."

"D'you want to go somewhere else, then?" Charles asked politely, sure that the women wouldn't argue. After all, McDonald's was everywhere and anywhere; it wasn't anything special.

"No, I won't inconvenience you. Besides, I'm not hungry." Darcy answered, going to reserve a booth for them. Charles, Jane, and Elizabeth all agreed to get the 50-count McNuggets, dollar menu fries, and a large drink; they even ordered a drink for Darcy though he didn't ask for one. The trio sat down with Darcy after filling their cups, Charles bearing a Coke for his friend when he sat down next to him.

"I'm guessing you're only adverse to eating her currently because you can't work off those extra cals, right, Darcy-boy?" Charles solicited, sipping at his Dr. Pepper. Darcy's ears burned red, but he nodded all the same.

"Oh, come on, it's not like you're fat, Crispy." Elizabeth jeered, chewing on her straw rather than drinking.

"No, I'm not 'fat,' but I'd still much rather not gain any weight to work off while I'm incapacitated. I'm not supposed to jostle my arm, and I'd probably already exceeded the days limit from those crowds." Darcy sighed, nodding at his arm resting in the sling. He wanted it to heal quickly, so he would do everything the doctor had advised him to do down to the smallest things. Elizabeth was mollified at the reference to the injuries he'd sustained from being near her Halloween night at Charles' party. A worker calling out Charles' name to retrieve their order interrupted the conversation; the said young man got up, obtaining the tray containing the box of 50 McNuggets and three orders or fries, and returned very quickly.

"It's a control thing; Darcy here is the biggest control freak you'll ever meet. Anyways, enough about him – Lizzie, tell me about yourself. I need to get you something a bit more meaningful than chocolates or the like for Christmas, you know!" Charles said when he got back, winking at the end and smiling brightly.

"Oh, no, you don't have to—"

"Of course I do, Lizzie! After all, you're quickly becoming my wife's best female friend. As her best male friend, I simply must get to know you better and become your friend. From then on, a Christmas present wouldn't be too bad, would it?" Charles interrupted Elizabeth exultantly, dipping a McNugget with too much zeal into his barbeque sauce, knocking the container over. Darcy quickly righted the sauce, leaving Charles to clean up the little glob that had seeped out onto the table.

"The floor is yours, Lizzie. Don't mind me and my clumsiness." Charles advised, sticking a napkin over the spill.

"Um… I'll do it as long as you return in kind. What would you like to know, Charlie?" Elizabeth shrugged, unsure of what to say. Certainly, there was quite a bit to her character, but with Darcy present, she didn't want to reveal much in case he found a flaw in something.

"Certainly! Let's start with favorites… like color, musicians, et cetera." Charles suggested, eating another McNugget. Elizabeth beamed at the easy questions that weren't intimate, answering all Charles' inquiries with ease then imposing the same from him. Darcy listened to Elizabeth intently with interest, unable to ignore her like he'd originally planned to so he wouldn't get too attached. He found himself taking mental notes of her likes and dislikes, warming his insides considerably. Despite what Elizabeth thought, Darcy was able to find many correspondences between their dispositions, leading him to believe that, should he ever try and get involved with her romantically, they'd get along swimmingly. Certainly, considering the iciness in which Elizabeth treated him as of late, he'd have to make her warm up to the idea, but nothing was impossible to Darcy.

It was then Darcy was able to not pay Elizabeth the attention she was due because of the direction his thoughts were taking. Did he really want to start something with Elizabeth? Did he really want to make the effort for her? Subtly looking Elizabeth over and assessing her outward appearance, Darcy could find faults: her eyebrows weren't very thin (probably because she didn't wax them or whatever women did to make their eyebrows so small), her nose was slightly crooked, and her freckles could make her look childish at times. However, he looked at all these supposed faults with a good light: because her eyebrows weren't shaved or whatever, it meant she didn't care what society thought of her. Her nose, though it wasn't completely straight, was quite adorable and button-like, and her freckles just showed off how much time she spent basking in the sun's rays, unlike the normal high society women who got their tans and such from machines or sprays. Besides, Darcy wasn't one to look at only appearances; he quite enjoyed Elizabeth's impish nature and witty remarks. She was a sight to behold, in his not so humble opinion.

Darcy decided then and there that he'd quite like pursuing Elizabeth Bennet romantically even though they'd have to overcome distance and social class on top of her apparent "dislike" of him. He didn't think that she actually wasn't fond of him because he'd never met a woman who didn't enjoy his presence; all the ones who claimed otherwise had just been vying for his attention in a different way. Generally, the "hard to get tactic worked on men who wanted a chase, which Darcy most certainly was, but he'd always forgone romance as something for others in spite of his hopeless romantic attitude since he'd by no means found any woman remotely interesting. As he'd never liked the appearance of men and was certain of his sexual orientation, Darcy had in no way even considered a male partner even though he'd garnered the attention of them before because of the press claiming he was gay from his lack of a girlfriend.

"If you don't mind my asking, what do you find as the easiest way to get to know someone, Kitten?" Darcy inquired, his mental nickname for Elizabeth rolling off his tongue before he realized it; his ears flushed red once more at the mistake. Charles looked at him with wonder in addition to amusement while Jane watched him with surprise.

"I thought you didn't remember Halloween night, Crispy?" Elizabeth asked, blushing slightly.

"I don't…" Darcy's cheeks started to heat up at his confession, making him uncomfortable. The last time he'd blushed had been years ago when he was a lad, and yet this girl was making him do so copiously! Elizabeth's flush also darkened at his admittance, causing her to question when and why he'd started calling her "Kitten" again. An awkward silence befell the quartet until Charles started laughing to ease the tension, slapping Darcy heartily on his good shoulder, complimenting him on the swell pet name.

"Eh, well… depends. To be friends, I guess doing what Charlie and I are doing now. Going around with mutual acquaintances, asking questions, et cetera." Elizabeth finally replied after Charles had stopped laughing so boisterously. She didn't feel like disclosing anything else on the subject and was about to change topics when Darcy asked, "And what if it was romantically, hypothetically speaking?"

The heat in his silver eyes made Elizabeth look away in discomfort. She wasn't supposed to like Darcy, but he was very tempting to forgive, considering his lovely looks, the easy, charming attitude he'd had at Charles' Halloween party, and the altruistic way he'd saved her, twice, with out knowing her.

"Erm… I guess starting out like this but eventually breaking off alone for dates and such… I'm not really sure since it's been… I mean, I'm not the guy…" Elizabeth trailed off ineptly, thinking back to her pitiful experiences with boys in the romantic department. Even though she was one to support women's rights, Elizabeth wasn't about to ask a guy out – that took too much courage, courage that she didn't have. Anyways, it wasn't like many young men were very intriguing; all thy cared about, it seemed, was sports, sex, and video games. Elizabeth knew she wasn't on to easily get attached and that she'd definitely need an older guy instead of the immature college boys she knew.

"Interesting… indeed, that would be a good technique. Personally, I've never done so, since if I look at a woman, she tends to think I've already decided our marriage date." Darcy smirked, thoughts mainly on Caroline Bingley. Charles, who also knew to whom Darcy was mostly referring to, burst out into peals of laughter. Jane and Elizabeth, however, were not keen on the seemingly haughty expression Darcy had; in actuality, he was just laughing in his head at what he considered his own cleverness.

"Well, we're finished with lunch. Do you all want to go somewhere now? I think we can catch a movie – there's this really good one I'd like to see…" Jane proposed, piling all their trash onto the tray. With no objections, they left McDonalds to walk back to Charles' car, finding out they'd spent nearly two hours in the fast food joint talking and eating (or, in Darcy's case, listening and drinking). The drive to the theatre was filled with movie talk, ranging from favorites to the worst ones currently out; predictably, to Elizabeth, Darcy barely said a word. Even more predictable was that the film Jane wanted to see was the newest chick flick, as they found out when they arrived at the building and she pointed out the poster for it. Because they'd just eaten, save for Darcy, the quartet skipped getting popcorn and went straight into the theatre, Jane and Charles snuggling together, leaving Elizabeth between a deliriously content Jane and the still silent Darcy. What shocked her was when Darcy reclined back into his seat, stretching out his long arm over the top of her seat. It was the oldest trick in the book for guys to use on girls they fancied while at the movies, but Elizabeth couldn't come up with a logical reason for Darcy to do so unless he felt like stretching. She flushed horribly when she caught wind of Darcy's cologne, unconsciously scooching closer to her left where Jane sat.

"Sorry… it's a bit cramped for me. I would do the same with my right arm, but, as you can see, I can't." Darcy said, noticing Elizabeth's discomfort. It wasn't a lie as Darcy did find himself restricted within minutes in movie theatre seats because of his grand height, but it wasn't the whole truth since he was testing Elizabeth to see what she'd do. She didn't disappoint him. Licking his dry lips, Darcy paid no attention whatsoever to the movie, choosing instead to watch Elizabeth when he could afford to. She was incredibly intoxicating to him with her vivid expressions and body language; Darcy as glad he'd officially chosen to give chase to Elizabeth since he knew, even if he hadn't, he wouldn't be able to resist surveying her.

"Okay, I need to see something manly before I die. We're going to watch an action movie now." Charles declared once the credits rolled, not taking "no" for an answer. Elizabeth soon found herself once more beneath Darcy's arm in a different room, but because she enjoyed action movies far more than chick flicks, she was able to ignore him and view the movie this time around. When Charles' action movie ended, he took them to a fancy restaurant for dinner as it was past seven in the evening. Elizabeth was unsurprised when Darcy ate heartily, figuring that a man with his pride wouldn't want to stomach McDonalds food, weight gaining be damned, however, when he partook in a vast amount of the conversation, both Jane and Elizabeth were astounded. Jane had never heard him speak so much excluding when he spoke about his sister, and Elizabeth just didn't expect it from him, chalking it all up to arrogance.

"It's gotten really late. Lizzie, Darcy, you're both invited to sleep over at our house." Charles said with the conclusion of their meal as he footed the bill.

"I wouldn't want to impose on y'all. Besides, I haven't got anything from a change of clothes to a toothbrush." Elizabeth spoke up first. She wasn't adverse to the idea since it seemed fun, but she'd never fit into any of Jane's shirts. Jane hadn't been graced with the same cup size as Elizabeth, and she didn't want to appear risqué at all, especially if Caroline was around. She was also sure Caroline wouldn't be inclined to loan her a shirt even if they had been the same size.

"I, too, have nothing of the sort. In addition to that, I'd rather avoid Caroline if I'm meant to sleep in my skivvies." Darcy intoned, hoping that was enough to quell Charles. Instead, it just sent the young man in a giggle fit.

"Don't be rash, Darce, you can borrow something of mine, and I'm sure Lizzie can borrow something of Jane's." Charles said after he'd calmed down.

"Rash? Charles, I'm almost six inches taller than you plus over fifty pounds heavier than you; I'd never be able to fit into anything of yours! And, if you hadn't noticed, your wife and Elizabeth aren't the same size, either." Darcy was incredulous. He knew Charles was a bit of a flake sometimes, but he knew his friend wasn't _that_ unobservant.

"Pish posh, Darcy, you're only five and a half inches taller than me. You were able to fit into my things when we were children even though I was taller and fatter than you. And Lizzie isn't that… eh… if Jane's clothes didn't fit, she could borrow something of mine." Charles shrugged, turning his gaze from Jane to Elizabeth; both women were blushing furiously as it was their assets that were being examined and talked about. Neither found the thought appealing.

"Charles, that was when we were _children_, like you said, and the situation was reversed. Either way you say it, nearly six inches of five and a half, it means your clothes would be too short for me." Darcy was able to get out before Elizabeth rejoined the conversation.

"I don't fancy either of you eyeing me up, you know. Look, this is turning into more trouble than it's worth, so why don't we all go to our own homes?" She said, glowering.

"Well, it's a long walk back to the hotel and your relatives' house. I'm only going to one place." Charles asserted, quite smugly. Darcy felt his jaw drop on its own accord at how absurd Charles was being; Elizabeth, who had no real qualms at spending the night, just laughed.

"Charles, you can't be serious. Your sister—"

"Isn't a magician. She can't get through locked doors, and we all know you'll be up and gone before she even wakes up. Carrie will never get a glimpse of your ass, don't worry." Charles waved off Darcy's concerns, being in the nature of living in the moment. Currently, he wanted to bring his best friend back to his house for a video game marathon, and he wasn't going to let Darcy slip away just because of his sister.

"You wanker. I'd cross m arms if I could." Darcy grumbled, accepting defeat; he pouted petulantly. Charles whooped, getting a glare from the waiters in response. Apologizing quickly, he led the quartet back to his car outside only after he'd gotten his credit card back.

"How tall are you, exactly, Crispy?" Elizabeth asked when they got in the car, Darcy folding his legs nearly to his chest because of the small confines. She'd noticed him ducking slightly when going through doors even though he was a few inches shy of actually hitting the top of them.

"I'm just over six foot four inches." Darcy answered, buckling his seat belt.

"It's a real pain shopping for him if you're getting him clothes. Most of the time, the shirts are too short and you can't find his pants size." Charles piped up, grinning.

"Try actually being me and see how much of a pain it is." Darcy mumbled. Only Elizabeth caught it since she sat behind him, and she was unable to hold her laughter back.

"Does the tall gene run in your family?" She asked, thinking back to her conversation with Jane about Darcy's little sister. If Darcy was that tall, she'd love to know how high Georgiana reached.

"No… my father topped out at five foot ten inches, my mother at five foot four inches, and my sister, Georgiana, is about your height. I think I had a great-something grandfather who was abnormally tall to explain where my height came from." Darcy replied, thinking back to his childhood. No one expected him to be very tall since he'd been abnormally short as a child, but they'd all turned out impossibly wrong now. It was a bit ironic, really.

"Imagine my shock when he turned out this tall. As kids, I was the tall one… now, I'm short." Charles jested, making Jane roll her eyes.

"Charlemange, you're taller than the average American man. Stop saying you're short." She chided gently.

"Pfft, compared to Darcy, I am."

"Everyone is, except basketball players."

"But they don't count since their career depends on them being so tall, Jane, and…"

Both Elizabeth and Darcy tuned the couple out. Darcy knew it was common for them to go through the routine a few times a day when he was around, and it sounded way too rehearsed to Elizabeth for her to care.

"Oh, yeah, Darce, what's a wanker?" Charles asked, interrupting Jane at one point in their act. Amazingly, Darcy laughed in response; Elizabeth rather enjoyed the sound filling up the cab part of the car.

"You should know, Charles… most men are." Darcy chuckled, words filled with mirth.

"… If you mean what I think you mean, you're an ass." Charles reddened, scowling

"Revenge, Charles, revenge for making me spend the night when Caroline will be around." Darcy cackled.

**A/N**: _I'm sorry for the lapse between updates… I hit a bit of writer's block on top of having four projects, three of which were due on the same day, dumped on me in my last two weeks of school. The only good thing is that I only have 2.5 days left before my summer break, so I'll hopefully update quite frequently from now on. :) Thank you to all y'all favorite-ers, watchers, and reviewers! Y'all are the best!_

_~ Tobi_


	5. Mickey Mouse, Oh My!

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Derp.  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Harriate Slate-Thing-Hari-Hu: <span>Find out for yourself. ;P I'm glad you like it! Dye his hair for what? I've noticed that, too, about the texting habits; to me, that's just strange. Of course, he's got to have a bit of an inflated ego. No, it's really cool to know your thoughts while reading through it, don't apologize!  
><span>daMuseFreak<span>: Thank you. :) I only got bogged down because of all my projects; normally, it wouldn't take that long for me to update.  
><span>Cvtperez<span>: Thank you for the review. C:  
><span>Justlovefanfiction2901<span>: Thank you! :D  
><span>Anon.<span>: It's all cool – more you shall get. :D Thank you for reviewing!  
><span>Petuniadoodle<span>: I'm sure you'd say something different if I had a chapter that was only about 2k words long. :P Thank you!

**- Mickey Mouse, Oh My! -**

Caroline was in the den when the quartet arrived. She had been working there on her laptop ever since her lunch date with Richard had concluded, working on her newest book to "make it more realistic," as Richard had intoned. He'd said, while her work was good, it wasn't anything like what Darcy Publishing would take on. A meeting with Richard had actually been better than one with Darcy for Caroline since, unlike Darcy, Richard actually read her piece, considered it, told her what she could improve on and then rejected it instead of just ignoring her the best he could. Caroline was never one to ridicule or speak bad of Darcy, but she couldn't help but wonder if she should schedule appointments in the future with Richard instead of Darcy to get published by the esteemed Darcy Publishing.

All her thoughts were dashed, however, when Charles arrived with Jane, Elizabeth and (very surprisingly) Darcy. Upon seeing him decked out in clothes that, while old, fit him incredibly well, highlighting his physical strength, Caroline drooled (not literally, of course – only in her head). If Darcy went to work in clothes like that continually, she'd never want to see Richard again.

"I thought you couldn't go shopping because you were busy, Will?" Caroline called, missing the slight cringe Darcy gave as he was unable to escape her notice.

"I… banged my shoulder pretty roughly this morning and called in sick." Darcy replied with nonchalance, feeling the sick twist in his gut when he lied. Oh how he hated to, but, even if he really wished to tell Caroline the truth, it would be far too improper, impolite and hurtful.

"You poor dear. Do you need anything, anything at all?" Caroline simpered, giving Darcy a magnificent pout over the top of the couch towards where he stood, awkwardly, by the stairs leading up to the bedrooms with Jane, Elizabeth, and Charles.

"Um, thank you, but no. That was a long time ago, Caroline." Darcy hurried up the stairs, followed by Charles. The two men entered Charles' game-slash-guest room, Darcy locking the door behind them.

"Lucky break, man." Charles jested, turning on his television and switching the source to the one connected to his game console.

"Charles, I'm a little old for video games." Darcy groaned, sitting down on his friend's bed.

"Bull shit. No one is too old for video games." Charles retaliated, looking through his collection for the right game to play. He knew Darcy never played, so he looked for the ones that were easier to understand but still fun to play.

"I'm incapacitated." Darcy offered, trying to find a way out of playing anything. He was perfectly content to sit back and watch Charles game. Because of his pride and competitive nature, Darcy hated playing video games since he was rubbish at them; no matter what game it was, from RPG to button masher and everything in between, he failed miserably.

"Are you trying to just watch me again? You're no fun." Charles whined, pouting at Darcy. It got no reaction, so Charles accepted defeat and put Arkham City into his PS3.

"Let me guess, Dick got you this." Darcy sneered when the title screen came up. It was predictable of his cousin to get people DC, or more specifically, Batman, merchandise when he wasn't sure what they wanted as a present.

"Well, I asked for it. This game is badass. The graphics are stunning, the story line is great, the—"

"Just play, Charles. I don't need to hear your praises for the game since I'll never play it." Darcy grumbled, slipping off his shoes and getting comfortable stretching out on Charles' bed. Charles just snorted, lying on his stomach next to Darcy, glad every bed in his house was a King.

"Anyways, are you sure Jane and I can't handle a baby? She took this year off just so we could." Charles asked after a few minutes filled with him beating up a few crooks for answers. He was pretty sold on the idea being a bad one from Darcy's reasons, but Jane, too afraid to ask herself, wanted him to make sure Darcy thought they couldn't deal with it. She wanted to have a child quickly because she wanted something tangible between them. A man who wasn't as certain as Charles was of their relationship would have felt threatened or insulted, but he didn't because he also wanted to see a miniature mixture of himself and Jane as soon as possible.

"Charles, wait until both of you are out of school and have a steady flow of money coming in. You might have a large trust fund, but it'll last only so long with extravagant spending. Children are expensive and a big decision. If you're at school with a baby, all the responsibility will fall on Jane; if you're both at school, you'll need a sitter. Personally, I'd raise my child by my own hand, not some hired help's." Darcy sighed, wishing the newly wed Bingleys would forget about babies. They were far too young and rash to have one, especially with Charles' absentminded self; they needed to mature some individually and a couple. He knew they fought over the TV remote and the show to watch at night before bed (Jane liked the news while Charles wanted to watch thins like American Dad). A couple as young as they were shouldn't have a child since they were still children themselves in some ways.

"I'll make sure to tell Jane that." Charles nodded. Ultimately, the decision wasn't Darcy's, but he still liked to refer to him for major things. So far, Darcy had been correct every single time Charles had come to him for advice, so he didn't doubt his friend's knowledge of the world. Silence befell them again until Darcy plucked up the courage to speak.

"How well do you know Elizabeth Bennet, Charles?" He asked, picking at a string sticking out from his sling. Darcy twisted and uncurled it about his pointer finger, unknowingly making it longer. It wasn't like he was nervous about it, however, he didn't favor Charles cluing in on anything. What Charles knew, Caroline knew. It was either the twin mind reading thing or just Caroline being Caroline and finding out anything concerning Darcy.

"Well, I haven't seen much of her, but I know Jane thinks she's a swell girl. They've been practically inseparable since they met. Why? What d'you want to know?" Charles inquired, biting his tongue in concentration as a particularly difficult sneak attack part came up. While he did have some protection against the heat sensors the crooks had, the adrenaline rushing through his body during such attacks always seemed to affect his playing in a bad way. Charles wasn't thinking too much of Darcy's sudden interest, focusing more on his game.

"I'm almost positive she overheard what I said in the hospital that first day, and I'd like to make it up to her. Do you know what he favorite restaurant or food might be, per chance?" Darcy's voice was low, just in case Caroline had her ear pressed to the door. It had happened before when she suspected he was talking about other women with Charles, so he wouldn't put it past Caroline to do it again, no matter how childish it was. Giving up on the string after he noticed it lengthening, Darcy let his good arm slip over the edge of the bed to mess with the carpet instead.

"Damn it! I almost had them!"

Darcy jumped slightly at Charles' outburst, having forgotten about Arkham City in favor of Elizabeth Bennet.

"Eeh, um… find a steak house around here. Or a barbeque pit, but I dunno if we have good BBQ here. Never been." Charles sighed, starting over from his last checkpoint. He went through to the sneak attack point mechanically, tuning Darcy out as he concentrated solely on knocking out all the crooks around the subway station. Three tries later, Charles gave a whoop of joy, accidentally tossing his controller up towards the ceiling when he threw his arms up in exuberance.

"You know, I dunno if she'll truly go out with you, Darcy, even for one night as a sort-of apology. You've actually been pretty rude to her." Charles paused the game, turning to Darcy curiously. He'd never seen Darcy _want_ to go to dinner with a woman before, especially as an apology. Charles knew he hadn't grown up with Darcy when the man actually started dating, but Darcy had, as of yet, to use this tactic around Charles.

"I'll look at the online reviews, then. Is your laptop in your room?" Darcy questioned, sitting up and getting to his feet with out a reply. Charles, despite being eccentric and forgetful, never left his laptop anywhere else; it was his baby. Quietly, Darcy left the room, slipping silently down the hall to the master bedroom; not thinking the girls could be within, he opened the door without knocking. Darcy hardly took the time to take in the scene in front of him before he slammed the door shut, apologizing profusely. When he closed his eyes, he could clearly see the tan calves melting into shapely creamy thighs connected to a the finest bum Darcy had ever seen covered by a pair of Mickey Mouse boyshort panties. God, what a pair of legs!

"What do you want, Darcy? Knock next time, this isn't your house." Jane poked her head out the door, looking quite irate.

"I truly am sorry; I didn't think—"

"Exactly, you didn't think. I'll ask again, Darcy, what do you want?" Jane interrupted him crossly, tapping her foot impatiently. She found consolation in the fact Darcy's ears, or what she could see of them beneath his mop of curls, were bright red.

"Charles' laptop…" He answered, offering a meek smile. Darcy hadn't meant to walk in when Elizabeth was changing, but he sure wasn't regretting it now, even if Jane was doing her best to give him the third degree. It was well worth the pleasure of witnessing a pair of fine legs could bestow. Jane nodded, shutting the door and turning to Elizabeth.

"Did he see anything?" Elizabeth asked quietly, peeping her head over the top of the bed where she'd ducked and covered. Her face resembled a fire truck in color because, even though bathing suits were essentially underwear made to swim in, no man had ever seen her in her skivvies since she was a child.

"Do you want me to ask?" Jane raised an eyebrow, walking to Charles' side of the bed where his laptop sat on top of his bedside table. She waited patiently as Elizabeth debated, mentally, if it was better to know or not know the truth.

"Ignorance is bliss." Elizabeth decided, burying her burning face in her knees. Her confidence wavered and fell through when Jane opened the door to give Darcy the laptop.

"What did you see?" Elizabeth called before the door was closed. Darcy hesitated a moment, considering his options: was it better to lie, which he hated to do, or tell the truth and suffer whatever consequences Elizabeth would bestow upon him?

"Mickey Mouse knickers… but not for very long. Again, I apologize. Next time I'll make sure to knock."

Elizabeth groaned after he left, unsure if Darcy would bring it up sometime. He, no doubt, thought Mickey Mouse was way too childish for anyone over ten or so.

"Don't worry, Lizzie… Darcy might be, well, mean, but he's not intentionally cruel. He won't tell anyone… if he had anyone to tell, that is." Jane said, hurrying to her friend's side.

"It's almost like when I got pants'd in the sixth grade in front of the guy I liked, John Thornton… only kind of worse." Elizabeth moaned into her knees, wanting to shake off Jane's reassuring hand from her shoulder. She was unable to because it would be like kicking a puppy or something; one does not simply ignore or shrug off Jane Bingley, especially when she's trying to comfort you.

"Why is it worse?" Jane fell to her temptation. She didn't want to pry and make bad memories resurface, but Jane really couldn't see how this situation was worse.

"John was a nice guy; he never mentioned it, ever. I can bet you Crispy will mention it any time he sees me now." Elizabeth responded, cursing her luck. While she bemoaned about how childish Darcy was going to make her out to be, down the hall, Darcy wasn't really paying attention to the restaurant reviews he'd looked up, wondering how in the world Mickey Mouse had suddenly become sexy. He ended up growing tired of trying unsuccessfully to read the reviews and got Charles to leave the room so he could sleep, feigning exhaustion.

Darcy really wished Charles hadn't been adamant in his staying over since he was unable to shave or brush his teeth; on top of that, he had to sleep in the same house as Caroline in only his underwear. He could only hope Caroline didn't have the key to the guest-slash-game room and slept in like Charles said she would; Caroline had been in the habit of waking early when he and Richard had been staying at the Bingley abode.

Charles, after being forced out by Darcy, went to his bedroom too awake to actually sleep. Unlike Darcy, he knocked on the door before entering, finding Jane and Elizabeth clad in sleepwear and watching BBC's MI-5 series.

"This is so fake, you know." He commented, going to his chest of drawers to find a clean pair of boxers and an undershirt to sleep in.

"Yeah, but they've always got handsome male protagonists." Elizabeth quipped, grinning cheekily.

"Have you not seen their female leads? _Sexy_." Charles shot back, winking mischievously at Jane before going into the conjoined bathroom to shower. He joined the girls after showering, watching Spooks with them until late into the night. When everyone was yawning, Elizabeth was shown to a free guest room where she crashed until what she considered, as a college student, the wee hours of the morning. Having become a light sleeper because of the Gardiner's young children being restless sleepers, always getting up in the middle of the night for something or another, Elizabeth woke up when she heard loud thumping going down the stairs. She was nearly to the door in a panic, thinking it was a Gardiner child falling down repeatedly or knocking things over as the walked in their sleep, when she remembered where she'd spent the night.

Elizabeth returned to the large, plush bed she wish she could sleep on every night, but, from her wild abandon and torrent of adrenaline, found it impossible to go back to the comforts of sleep. Since the thumping meant someone else was up, Elizabeth decided to investigate, slipping down the stairs without so much as a peep. Following her nose to the kitchen, she was met with the admittedly delicious sight of Darcy rubbing his backside absentmindedly as he was bent over to lean on the counter. He was only dressed in a pair of dark boxer briefs and the white t-shirt he'd bought the day before after she'd asked him about his Savage Garden shirt. Unable to contain herself at the irony of it all, Elizabeth broke down in laughter, startling Darcy; he jumped, ramming the top of his skull into the cupboards over the counter. Elizabeth only laughed harder at his misfortune.

"Guess we can blame good ole' karma on this, can't we?" Elizabeth chortled, trying to catch her breath. Darcy turned to face her, ears burning bright red as well as his cheeks; he let his arm hang in front of his body in a vain attempt at casually hiding himself from Elizabeth. She just rolled her eyes when she noticed, snorting.

"Crispy, I have no intention of looking at 'Little Crisp.'" Elizabeth fibbed. Hey, it was Darcy, after all; it would make great black mail material.

Okay, it wouldn't be just great black mail material. But that was the main reason, or so Elizabeth would argue to!

"I happen to not like you referring to… it as 'Little Crisp.'" Darcy muttered, his blush starting to creep towards his neck. Normally, he wasn't shy when his body was concerned since he'd been called "sexier than Adonis" on various occasions by several different people, but with Elizabeth around, Darcy was self-conscious to the point of wanting to run and find a pair of pants or shorts to put on over his skivvies.

"I happen to not care." Elizabeth teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Was that you that made all that noise going down the stairs?" She asked when he made no attempt to grace her with a reply. Darcy nodded, becoming even more embarrassed; it made him speculate how red and flustered he could get.

"Tripped on the last few stairs… not a morning person until I've had my tea." He mumbled, nodding to the kettle warming on the stove. Darcy planned on gulping down two, maybe three, cups before hightailing it out of the mansion so Caroline couldn't see him. While Elizabeth witnessing him in his boxer briefs was embarrassing, it would be excruciatingly painful if Caroline ever saw him. She'd probably try to get a rise out of him and then some – or worse. Darcy involuntarily shuddered at the notion, scowling deeply.

"Graceful, aren't we. Do you think Charlie would mind if I made a pot of coffee? Not all of us are stuffy tea-drinkers." Elizabeth cajoled, looking around the counters for a coffee maker.

"He wouldn't… but he's out of milk. The cook left a note for him last night; Caroline finished it all and didn't tell anyone. Charles is lucky he ate out with us last night." Darcy said, nodding at the bright green sticky note on the fridge. Elizabeth groaned, pouting. Darcy couldn't help but want to see that pout forever while at the same time wanting to kiss it away; Elizabeth was really too cute for him. She looked so adorable in one of Charles' shirts that reached to her mid-thigh and a pair of Jane's sleeping pants that were rolled up to her ankles since Jane had a few inches on her. Darcy decided he'd somehow finagle Elizabeth into on of his shirts on day just to see how far it would reach on her legs; for the added bonus of killing two birds with one stone, he was also planning to get her in a pair of his pants. She'd be irresistibly sexy. The teakettle hissed, changing the direction of Darcy's thoughts before Elizabeth would be able to notice; he turned fully around before moving his arm to Elizabeth's amusement.

"Is there a corner store nearby? I could get him another gallon there." Elizabeth asked after Darcy filled his awaiting mug to the brim with earl gray tea. He looked over his shoulder oddly at her, trying to figure out what she meant.

"A corner store?"

"Um, yeah, a corner store. Haven't you been to one?" Elizabeth said, eyebrows quirking together in her own bewilderment.

"Not to my knowledge, no. What are they?" Darcy inquired, taking a sip of his tea with his back to her. He didn't want to face Elizabeth with out one arm for protection, and with one in a sling and the other holding his mug, he was forced to appear rude and keep his back to her.

"Exxon Mobil, Phillips 66, Shell, Diamond Shamrock… you've never been to one?" Elizabeth was incredulous.

"I've been to a petrol station before, believe me. I've just never heard them being referred to as a corner store before… and I don't think they sell milk." Darcy replied, comprehension dawning on his face.

"Well, I've never heard them called a petrol station before, so we're even. Some do, I know, but they don't have many gallons. You have to get there early before they're all out. Anyways, there's got to be a CVS or something near by if the corner store doesn't work out." Elizabeth shrugged. Now she knew why people gave her peculiar looks when she mentioned a corner store.

"I can drive you to the nearest one, then." Darcy quickly finished his tea before hightailing it out of the kitchen to Elizabeth's hilarity. However, she followed his lead and ascended the stairs to the room she'd spent the night in to change as well. When she remembered that she didn't have a second shirt and couldn't nix one of Jane's, Elizabeth pulled on her pants from the day before, leaving the shirt of Charles' that she'd borrowed to sleep in on and drew her jacket on over it. Darcy was waiting for her outside the door, tucking his shirt into his jeans; like Elizabeth, he had only pulled on his trousers form the previous day, leaving on the shirt he'd slept in.

"Are you sure you can drive?" Elizabeth asked, somewhat guiltily, eyeing Darcy's sling with apprehension as he shrugged on his jacket over it.

"I can drive perfectly well with one hand, thank you." Darcy scowled, leading Elizabeth to the garage. He picked up a set of keys at random from the drawer in the desk where Charles kept all his key rings, clicking the unlock button to see which of Charles' cars they were going to borrow. Ironically, the mundane set of keys belonged to the most loud and obnoxiously colored car Charles owned: a bright yellow 1973 Corvette Stingray.

"I hope you don't care how your hair will look." Darcy commented, snatching the pair of sunglasses sitting on the desk before walking over to the car with no roof.

"And what if I did, per chance?" Elizabeth smirked at him, trying not to be in awe of the gorgeous automobile. Of all the cars that her father wanted, Charles just had to have it; since she could remember, Wayne had been bellyaching about not being able to afford his dream car, a Corvette Stingray. He would be so envious when he found out Elizabeth was able to ride in one.

"I'd tell you to suck it up." Darcy replied cheekily, a small, dimple-revealing smile on his face. He donned the sunglasses before getting in the car, revving the engine when Elizabeth joined him; as soon as they both were belted in, Darcy opened up the garage door with the wireless button hanging from the key ring and peeled out onto the long driveway. Upon hearing Elizabeth's gleeful laughter, Darcy pressed harder on the gas pedal, making the car go faster; on Charles' private property, he paid no heed to any speed limit just to glimpse the wild abandon Elizabeth gave. She treated the exhilarating ride like a roller coaster, throwing her arms up and screaming with joy. Darcy only wished he could have it on tape; he knew none of any of his few past girlfriends would have done anything like that. It felt liberating, driving fast and sneaking peeks at Elizabeth's obvious exultance; Darcy felt free, for the first time, of the constraints placed upon him by society and the like.

Elizabeth thought she was mistaken when Darcy's raucous laughter joined her own, but once she looked his way, all she could see was how joyful he felt. She couldn't take her eyes off the sight of him. Elizabeth and Darcy both were disappointed when they swiftly left Charles' property behind and had to abide to the speed limit set.

"Haven't you driven fast before? Even a straight-lace guy like you must've when you were younger." Elizabeth spoke up after a minute, reflecting back on the scene he'd been. After slowing down, Darcy's wide grin had dissipated to the straight line she was accustomed to seeing.

"I have – but not recently, and certainly not with such a… wonderful companion. Your zeal is contagious." Darcy admitted, giving Elizabeth a sad little smile.

"You should get infected more often. You have a nice smile, Crispy." Elizabeth poked his side, an encouraging look on her face. In return, Darcy provided a short laugh, keeping his smile on.

"Thank you, Kitten."

"Hey, why do you call me that? You say you don't remember Halloween night when we met again, and that was the only time I wore anything cat-related." Elizabeth inquired, watching Darcy closely. It was a mystery to her why, if he didn't remember, he still called her the same pet name; in addition to that, Elizabeth couldn't recall him using pet names for anyone else. She noticed Darcy alternated between "Charles" and "Charlie" frequently, like he didn't really want to use the nickname.

"I… don't remember. You just… remind me of a cat." Darcy flushed, making sure to keep his eyes on the road and not sneak a peek at Elizabeth. He didn't really want to explain himself to her, not this early in his plan. It would ruin his approach.

"How so?" Elizabeth pressed, pouting slightly. In all honestly, she thought she was more like a dog than a cat, if she thought about it; she was easily distracted when bored and liked to exercise or loaf about in the sun.

"Well, your eyes, for one. You're also very independent, I can tell." Darcy skirted around the real answer. The way Elizabeth commandeered his attention (and whatever room she was in) and took control was completely cat-like; on top of that, there was almost a strut in the way she walked, like she didn't care what you thought of her.

"Anything else?"

Darcy chuckled lightly. There was then, of course, Elizabeth's curious nature and incessant prodding until she got what she wanted. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

"Why do you call me 'Crispy'? I, quite honestly, detest that awful nickname that Dick gave me." He changed the subject, pulling up into the parking lot of a Raceway station a few miles from Charles' place.

"That's why." Elizabeth winked, quickly leaving the car. Going into the station, she noticed a somewhat familiar head poking around the refrigerators.

"James Denny?" She hazarded a guess, coming up behind him. The young man turned around, smiling broadly.

"The one and only. Elizabeth, wasn't it? You haven't texted me or anything!" James laughed good-naturedly, wiping away the sweat dripping from his brow. Since he was clad head to toe athletic gear that was soaked through from sweat on top of a Powerade being in his hand, Elizabeth was positive he had been out on a morning run.

"Sorry, I got caught up in my work. Training for the next Olympics, eh?" Elizabeth teased, truly apologetic. She'd forgotten about James finishing her schoolwork, but this nice wet reminder was sure to make sure she didn't overlook him again.

"Nah, just the baseball team. Gotta keep in shape, even in this weather, y'know? Anyways, what are you doing here so early?" James replied smoothly, also taking in Elizabeth's appearance. From how low the shirt hung on her to the tall guy hanging by the door watching them, James got the wrong impression and thought he figured out why Elizabeth had never contacted him.

"I spent the night at my friend's house, and he's out of milk. I need milk with my morning coffee, so I drove out here." Elizabeth explained, oblivious to the eye daggers Darcy was throwing at James. James, however, was getting nervous.

"You're in luck; they have two jugs. Sorry, but I've got to jet – get back to my run and all. I'll see you later, maybe?" James smiled, transferring his weight from one foot to another, discomfort growing with every second of Darcy's glare on his person. Even with his right arm in a sling, Darcy still cut a powerful figure that wasn't to be messed with.

"Definitely. See you, James." Elizabeth released him. She was surprised when James dodged around her almost in a dash but attributed it to him not wanting to lose his stride. In just a few minutes time, Elizabeth had gotten a gallon of milk and was seated comfortably in Charles' Corvette next to Darcy; she was still unaware of him ever entering the store.

"Who do you think is up by now?" Elizabeth joked, pulling her cell phone from her pocket to peek at the time; it read 7:21. Peering over at the device, Darcy shrugged noncommittally. Depending on if she wanted to see him in the morning or not, only Caroline had the chance of being up; Charles usually slept in past noon while Jane woke up regularly around nine. The cook would be in starting to make breakfast, and the maid would have already started collecting the laundry.

"No one in particular."

Elizabeth sighed, slouching down in her set while cradling the milk jug on the floor with her legs. Finding her childish response adorable, Darcy didn't say anything, starting the car and the return to Charles' house. The silence persisted until Darcy floored it when they reached Charles' private property. Even if it got rid of Elizabeth's pout, it gave Darcy a great view of her unparalleled exhilaration. Once more, both got caught up in the ride, laughing and whooping at the freedom it granted them. Elizabeth was still laughing, mirthful tears slipping past the corners of her eyes, when Darcy regretfully put the car in park in Charles' garage.

"Kitten… Elizabeth, I'd like to take you out to dinner sometime soon. I'm sure you overhead me throwing a temper tantrum of sorts in the hospital after Halloween, where I slighted you unpardonably, and I'd like to make it up to you." Darcy proposed as Elizabeth was getting out of the Corvette. She froze, almost dropping the milk to the ground in astonishment. Finding no excuse or want for one, still on a high from the ride, Elizabeth turned to him with a dazzling smile.

"I'd like that; I'd like that very much, Crispy."

She was rewarded with a grin rivaling her own.

"That's great."

- (Crappy break line) -

Caroline could hardly believe it when she woke up to a house devoid of Darcy. She _couldn't_ believe it when she overheard Jane and Elizabeth talking in the master bedroom.

"Are you kidding me? You jest, Lizzie!" Jane said, aghast. Elizabeth had just regaled her morning to Jane, who really couldn't see it happening. Even with her natural attitude for liking all people, she'd never gotten a positive response from Darcy, thus making her give up on trying to find the light in him. Then he went on telling Charles what to do, so Jane was a bit biased since Darcy didn't ever seem to agree with her on matters she felt he shouldn't even have a say in to begin with.

"No, I'm serious! Crispy looked younger than I've ever seen him… I can't believe, caught up in the moment, I agreed to have dinner with him." Elizabeth replied, laughing. The blush on her face, however, told Jane that she wasn't being entirely truthful when saying she only approved because of her "high." Jane smiled softly, hoping that her friend wouldn't get hurt again at the hands of Darcy; even with Elizabeth's brave front, it was just a front. It wasn't good to bottle up one's feelings and let them simmer.

"How old is he, anyways? He's always so serious…" Elizabeth pondered aloud, trying to remember how old Darcy had been when they'd first met. He'd been so small then, too! Remembering the Darcy of old and comparing it to his present image restarted her giggles anew.

"I think he's thirty, but don't hold me to it, Lizzie. He is, but Charlemange says he's got good reason to be. I don't know the specifics, but I guess it's got to deal with his sister being, essentially, blind." Jane confessed, shrugging slightly. She'd only met Georgiana over Skype once and hadn't realized it until Charles mentioned her near blindness in a passing. Having heard of Georgiana's prodigal talent on the piano and impeccable appearance, Jane hadn't believed Charles at first.

"Her… is that why he was so picky about what purse you wanted to get Georgiana?" Elizabeth asked, thinking back to the conversation in Coach. It all made sense to her, now.

"Yes. Gee is the only thing I'll commend Darcy on; she's come out wonderfully under his tutelage. I do hope you'll be able to meet her one day, Lizzie; you'd get along great, I bet, once you got past her shy wall." Jane said, knowing in her heart that Georgiana and Elizabeth would get along like two peas in a pod.

"Yes, Georgiana is _such_ a dear. For a while there, I thought she and Charles were going to marry! But, then dear Jane came along, and, as they say, the rest is history." Caroline chose then to swoop in, eyeing Elizabeth with a predatory gleam.

"I'm sorry for barging in, but I couldn't help but overhear you mention dear Georgiana."

Elizabeth could tell Caroline wasn't sincere, but it was over Jane's head. She'd grown accustomed to Caroline's comments about Georgiana and Charles; until she met Georgiana and learned she was only a teenager still, Jane had felt threatened by Caroline's remarks. Jane felt even safer after watching them Skype since Charles treated Georgiana with brotherly affection and not hidden love. As she wasn't positive on Georgiana's character, Jane felt that Caroline was a bit misguided and that Georgiana was suffering from an unrequited crush.

"She is such a credit to Darcy; you'll never meet a kinder girl. No offense, Jane. I think I can claim some credit on raising her as well since Darcy and I are such _close_ friends. Speaking of close friends, would you ladies like to join me in a bit of shopping? All the ruffians from yesterday won't be around." Caroline continued on, hoping to get Elizabeth in her company for the day. She just could not see how the young woman appealed to Darcy; in Caroline opinion, she was superior to Elizabeth in every way. Caroline was older, wasn't in school, made a living for herself, came from a rich family, was gorgeous, donated to charity – what more could Darcy ask for? His brain, Caroline figured, must to have been hampered by his pain medication; there was no other explanation!

Jane and Elizabeth exchanged glances, ruminating the idea over. While Jane didn't care, seeing at how little she actually managed to buy the day before, Elizabeth wasn't sure she wanted to go. Elizabeth didn't fancy shopping too much, and placing Caroline in her way would be sheer torture. Plus, she didn't look like much, wearing Charles' shirt.

"Actually, I—"

"Wonderful! The 'bus' is leaving in an hour, ladies!" Caroline laughed, rolling her eyes when she said "bus." She'd heard the expression before and had wanted to use it as a joke ever since. After Caroline left the room, Elizabeth groaned.

"Don't fret, Lizzie – Caroline, once you get past her vain nature, is a very nice woman. She has a killer sense of style, too." Jane comforted, patting Elizabeth's head like she would a puppy.

"Yeah, killer as in you'll die from wearing it." Elizabeth snorted. So far, all she'd seen of Caroline's "style" was cleavage-bearing shirts and short skirts; it never occurred to Elizabeth that Caroline only dressed that way when she thought or knew Darcy would be around.

"Let's go eat breakfast; I'm famished." Jane sighed, shaking her head at Elizabeth. Elizabeth, who had already eaten breakfast with Darcy to iron out when he'd take her out, asked instead if she could shower while Jane ate; after getting the affirmative, she headed into the master bathroom to take a searing shower. Once she was showered, Elizabeth headed downstairs to the kitchen and was shocked by the taste Caroline portrayed in her clothing. To compliment her eyes, Caroline had donned a power blue camisole with a white button-down over it; on her long legs lay a short jean skirt with black leggings beneath it.

"What, is there something on my outfit?" Caroline inquired when she noticed Elizabeth staring at her; frantically, she looked down, trying to find the imperfection.

"Ah, no, I'm just… surprised, that's all. Isn't it a bit, um, cold for that?" Elizabeth scrambled for words, giving a hesitant smile.

"Oh! No, the stores will be heated, as will the car." Caroline laughed in relief, pretending to wipe sweat from her brow. Shrugging, Elizabeth sat down next to Jane at the table, still trying to digest Caroline's new look and attitude.

"So, where shall we go today, ladies? I was thinking of Chanel, Armani for Charles – he needs a new dress shirt, Gucci… what do you say?" Caroline suggested, fully aware all the stores were out of Elizabeth's price range; it was all part of an intimidation act she had in mind. What was a better way to show Elizabeth that she wasn't worth Darcy's time than seeing the stores he regularly shopped in, where she couldn't even afford the cheapest of items?

"Oooh, I could totally get Dick something from Armani for his Christmas gift. It sounds good to me, Caroline." Jane smiled, rooting through her purse for the paper where Richard's, as well as Charles', Darcy's, and a few other male friends' sizes, were written down. Elizabeth just shrugged once more, willing to go with the flow; she didn't care where they went since she was sure she wouldn't want to buy anything (even if she could pay for anything).

"Wonderful! Let's go. I'll be driving; I just bought a new Porsche that I've been dying to drive." Caroline declared, leading the way to the garage. Unlike Charles' Corvette, it was a sleek shade of silver that wouldn't hurt one's eyes if one stared at it too long. Again, Elizabeth was thrown for a loop; she expected Caroline to have a brightly colored car, possibly cherry red or something, but instead had to stomach that Caroline wasn't as predictable as she'd thought.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully for Elizabeth; Caroline never went faster than sixty miles-per-hour ("I wouldn't dream of speeding; I'd loose track of the car, ha ha!") and had the soft top of her convertible up ("My hair would be ruined, Eliza! I can't put it down!"). Going through the stores with enormous prices, Elizabeth couldn't help but just meander through them, gazing at the niceties that she didn't care for. Jane and Caroline, however, were quickly filling up Caroline's small trunk with shopping bags filled with items they desired, causing Elizabeth to wonder what it was like to have it made. Growing up, she'd gotten what she wanted eventually, but Elizabeth had never had a taste for expensive things. Being surrounded by such items made her slightly nervous since she knew, should she become clumsy and break something, that she'd never be able to buy it.

At lunch, which Caroline graciously offered to buy for all three of them, it was the same thing: a fancy restaurant with prices too grand for Elizabeth's more humble tastes. In all honesty, she couldn't really tell the difference between the steak she got at Caroline's favorite place than her father's when he grilled (well, she got the au jus, but that was it). When Jane went to the bathroom, Elizabeth got the sudden feeling of becoming someone's prey.

"So, Eliza, Will asked you out on a date, did he?" Caroline asked softly… dangerously. Elizabeth looked at her, smirking.

"I didn't realize eavesdropping was practiced by the high society, Caroline." She replied gamely, avoiding giving her adversary a straight answer.

"It's not eavesdropping if it's heard all over the house, Eliza. All I'm trying to do is be a good friend right now. Will is… well, he may be tempting and very good at certain things, but he gets bored very easily. I don't want to see you get hurt by him." Caroline simpered, feigning apprehension. Even though she implied it, Caroline didn't speak from personal experience, just the words of an estranged ex. She really could care less if Elizabeth got hurt, but while Darcy entertained this dalliance with her, Elizabeth was Caroline's competition. Caroline was not above playing dirty to get what she wanted.

"If you're so 'concerned' about me having sex with him then being abandoned like last week's fashion, why do you have your eyes set on him? Crispy isn't that handsome." Elizabeth sneered, rolling her eyes. Concerned, indeed! More like foaming at the mouth because she wanted him back in her clutches!

"My, what a tongue you have, Eliza, so vulgar. I have my eyes set upon him because _Will_ will have to open his eyes one day soon. He just turned twenty-nine on Halloween; he's going to have to settle down, marry, and have children soon or else he'll be too old." Caroline shot back, scowling; she detested the way Elizabeth called Darcy "Crispy" like she was close to him.

"What century do you live in, Carrie? He's at his prime and can have kids whenever he wants, whether that be when he's thirty or sixty. That happens now a days, you realize." Elizabeth snorted, snickering as Jane approached, returning from her bathroom break. Jane could sense the animosity in the air; heck, she could practically see it.

"What's so funny, Lizzie?" Jane asked cautiously, knowing she wouldn't get a straight answer; she just wanted to diffuse the situation before it escalated even higher.

"Oh, Carrie here just told me a funny joke, that's all. Apparently, one still has to have kids before they're old and worthless at age thirty. Fancy that." Elizabeth quipped, grinning wildly while Caroline flushed horribly. Jane gave a weak smile, suggesting that they should return to shopping; Caroline quickly agreed, calling for the check. Before too long, Elizabeth was bored again, staring at the shiny things she'd never have nor truthfully want.

**A/N**: _So, summer break is here. :3 I plan on writing about 1k words a day (or more), so I'll probably be updating weekly or so. Sound good to y'all? I hope y'all enjoyed this. I originally had only Darcy in his skivvies, but… oh well. ;) Also, virtual brownies to all who know who John Thornton is with out Googling him._

_~ Tobi_


	6. Not a date?

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: One does not simply disclaim ownership when writing a fanfiction.  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Lena: <span>Thank you! :3 Yes, you can, lol. –hands over brownies- If you were wondering, he's a kind of then-modern Mr. Darcy from the book "North and South".  
><span>Harriate Slate-Thing-Hari-Hu<span>: I wasn't trying to convert the hate from Caroline; I'm just tired of her being a clingy slut with no backbone. :\ She's more than that.  
><span>Justlovefanfiction2901<span>: Thank you for the review. C:  
><span>Eb Evans<span>: Thank you – I'm glad you're enjoying it! :D Now that you mention it, I don't think she has… thanks for pointing that out, lol.  
><span>Rhea Bleu<span>: What's wrong with saying "y'all"? :c I'd love to put them in England, but I honestly have no clue what life is like there. Therefore, they're in America. I'm sorry you hate it.

**- Not a "date"? -**

A week passed by for Darcy slowly, devouring his attention and making his impatience burn brighter. It was a good thing that his doctor has cleared him for taking off the sling in addition to going back to his regular schedule of running every morning the Monday after Black Friday; by running, he was able to burn off his excess energy and stress. The only problem Darcy had was not being able to lift things he usually would because the doctor had told him to recover quickly, he shouldn't lift much of anything over fifteen pounds or so. It was painful for Darcy to even think of asking for help, so he was thankful he wasn't at Pemberley where he was used to working on the land.

While Darcy didn't think too much had happened in his slow week, Richard thought otherwise. Both of them had decided to stay in America until at least the New Year to herald it in with Chalres and Jane even though it meant spending Christmas away from Georgiana. Richard had also managed to worm most of the details from Darcy about what had occurred on Black Friday (he wasn't entirely sure where Mickey Mouse came in, but Richard was determined to find out eventually).

"So, Crispy, want to hang out at a bar tonight? I heard there's this really cool one down town. We could have dinner and then go check it out." Richard proposed during their lunch break, popping a French fry doused with ketchup into his mouth. The cousins had found a nice burger joint to have lunch in at least once a week, and Mondays were the day designated by Richard that they had to go if it was an option. Most of the time, come Monday around noon, the pair were able to snag a booth by a window to eat.

"Tonight is no good for me." Darcy admitted, ears burning. He hadn't told Richard of his "date" with Elizabeth and had planned on keeping it that way. Now, he wasn't sure if he would be able to, considering Richard's obstinate and curious nature.

"What, _you've_ got other dinner plans? I find that exceptionally hard to believe. I know Charlie hasn't extended an invitation, and you'd certainly not take one from Carrie." Richard laughed, rolling his eyes. He stopped when he noticed the blush creeping from Darcy's ears to his face.

"Oh my Lord, you _do_ have a date. Who's the unlucky lass?" Richard asked, narrowing his warm brown eyes at Darcy. Darcy looked out the window, resting his chin on his palm, trying to look disinterested; he cursed his body for making his blood rush to his face.

"I just don't want to go to a bar on a Monday night, Dick. Maybe on Friday, if I'm free?" Darcy offered, watching a pigeon peck at the ground for amusement. Richard shook his head, eating a few fries to let Darcy think he'd won, and when Darcy turned back to face his cousin, Richard pounced.

"You, Little Crisp, suck at lying." Richard announced, pointing an accusatory fry at Darcy, who was quickly turning bright red again at the memory of the last time he'd head "Little Crisp" used as a nickname.

"Th—I'm not lying, Dick!" Darcy sputtered, trying to expel his thoughts.

"Besides, I'm taller than you, so you can't call me 'Little Crisp!'" He added, attempting to possibly change the subject even though he was very uncomfortable. Darcy loosened his collar nervously, tugging lightly at his tie; the restaurant was suddenly hot. Richard smiled smugly at Darcy, rolling his eyes.

"I'm older than you, you nutter, so it still counts. You're so cute all flustered like this." Richard teased, reaching across the table to pinch Darcy's cheeks; with a slight growl, Darcy shoved Richard's hand away, scowling deeply.

"You're a wanker." Darcy grumbled, sullenly looking down at his mostly empty plate where a few brown, soggy fries sat in a pile next to a bit of bread.

"Takes one to know one, Crispy. Going to finish your chips?" Richard retorted petulantly, eyeing the discarded fries with interest. Darcy shook his head, shoving the plate over to Richard; he sipped quietly on his iced water, hoping Richard was successfully distracted from questions concerning his nighttime whereabouts. When Richard asked their waiter for the check, Darcy figured he was cleared from any more inquiries; he was, however, proven wrong when both he and Richard got into one of their rental car.

"Wel, then, tell Dickie all the gory details." Richard said, starting up the car and reversing it out of the parking spot.

"What gory details?" Darcy eyed Richard warily, a sense of dread coming over him. Richard had always been a good actor, and Darcy had just been fooled.

"About your date, Crispy. You're lying by omission if you don't tell me because I know you're going out tonight." Richard clarified, smiling benignly. Time and time again, he'd laid this trap for Darcy, and time and time again, Darcy spilled all his secrets because of how vehemently he abhorred all forms of dishonesty. Also, Darcy tended to be horrible at deceiving people; his ears, at the very least, went red when he tried to word his way out of telling the whole truth.

"It's not a 'date' in the customary sense of the word, so your words are invalid." Darcy succumbed, glaring out the car window. He still wasn't quite used to the American cars and roads with everything being the opposite from England; he felt as if he should be the one driving even though he was in the passenger's seat. Richard, having been in America more, didn't notice the difference when he hopped across the pond.

"Well, it's a 'date' as in you're meeting someone, romantically or not. Your argument is invalid." Richard snickered, knowing he had his younger cousin. Ensnared by his honest disposition, Darcy was as good as sunk.

"Touché, Dick, touché." Darcy mumbled, conceding to Richard's victory.

"Tell, tell, Crispy."

Darcy moved his glare to Richard, frown returning. He didn't want to tell Richard anything, but he was caught.

"What do you want to know?"

"Wwweee-lll… her name, where you're going, how long you've known her, why haven't I met her, the usual stuff." Richard drawled, tapping out a whimsical beat with his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for a red light. Darcy sighed, slouching back into the leather chair.

"It's Elizabeth, alright? She heard me say some nasty things about her that was totally unfounded, so she agreed to let me take her out to dinner as an apology. I'm taking her to the steakhouse down the way from here; it's got acceptable reviews." He gloomily admitted, knowing he was foolish to think Richard would be tricked by the front. Richard had been insistent that he liked Elizabeth Bennet, and now he was just proving his cousin right. At first, Darcy had denied it to even himself, but now it was not an option from the Mickey Mouse episode. After that incident, there was absolutely no going back, even if he tried to after their "date."

"You _fancy_ Lizzie. I told you so! Who told you so? _I_ did. Up top for the win for Dickie! Dick one, Crispy none." Richard cheered, holding up one hand for a high five; he was even doing a little jig in his seat.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" Darcy slapped away Richard's hand, wishing Richard wasn't so uppity about the whole ordeal. He didn't even know Darcy's plan yet, and he was already ecstatic!

"So, got the next one already planned out?" Richard asked impishly, winking conservatively at Darcy even though they were alone. Darcy rolled his eyes, slumping even further into his seat, ignoring Richard when he said it would be bad for his back.

"Somewhat. I'm going to get her to trust me before I make a real move." Darcy confessed, shrugging mentally. If Richard grew serious, he could have some very good, insightful ideas of how to win Elizabeth over.

"You're risking the chance of getting into the 'friend zone'? Brave man, brave man." Richard snickered, socking Darcy lightly in the arm.

"No one will 'friend zone' me." Darcy sneered, although he wasn't exactly sure what Richard meant by "friend zone." Internally, he made a note to get more with the times so he could understand the references Richard and Charles made more often. Darcy wasn't entirely old fashioned, but he wasn't up to date with current pop culture affairs since he didn't appreciate it. If one were to ask him if he knew who Justin Beiber was, Darcy would have to say he didn't.

"True… us Fitzwilliam men are friend zone proof with our devilishly god looks." Richard laughed, ruffling Darcy's hair like he had when they were kids.

"And, before you say you're a Darcy, you technically are a Fitzwilliam man since it's your first name. Don't deny your heritage, young man!" Richard pretended to scold Darcy, wearing a feral grin. Darcy just rolled his eyes once more, accepting defeat.

"You're off your rocker, Dick. But, I'm essentially going to try and befriend Elizabeth before officially asking her out on a date." Darcy said, imagination running wild. He could see himself becoming Elizabeth's best friend, the one she came to for comfort or help, and he'd be damned if he didn't. His mother had always told Darcy that your spouse was your best friend as well as lover, and he based all his romantic relationships off of that. If he couldn't become friends with a woman, Darcy rejected her as a potential significant other. It was his first time actually having to be the one to make the first move and, consequently, the long run of hints and alluding to them being something more.

"Your mum has greatly influenced your love life, hasn't she? Hell, I don't think you've ever had a one-night stand or even a random kiss." Richard mused aloud, thoughts running along the same line as Darcy's. Being older than Darcy by seven years, he'd been well into the dating age before his aunt had passed; Richard could clearly remember his aunt Anne's chiding tone when she told him to treat ladies with respect. Even more clear to him was the time he'd heard his uncle Crispin's wise words of wisdom: a woman brought him into the world, and one would take him out if he ever screwed over her daughter (if the father didn't get to him first). Richard hasn't led a life like Darcy's, but he had as of yet to step on any toes.

"Yes. If there's anything she's imprinted on me, it's manners." Darcy smiled sadly. Hoping to guide their conversation towards lighter topics, Richard directed another question at Darcy.

"When are you going to pick Lizzie up?"

"When she gets out of her chemistry class in a couple hours. I'm going to wait for her on campus." Darcy replied with a little smirk, sitting up in his chair.

"She doesn't know you're going to do that, does she?" Richard laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. Sometimes, he couldn't believe how sly his cousin could be.

"Nope."

- (Crappy break line) -

Five and a half hors later, Darcy fiddled with his cell phone in his pocket, wondering if he was at the right building. He'd used Google to his advantage to find out what building of Elizabeth's college was the science one, but as the seconds ticked by, he grew more and more anxious, fearing he'd been wrong. It didn't help that students were eyeing him up; the girls, who probably were up to eleven years younger than he was, were surprisingly bold in their attentions. Some stood and admired Darcy from afar while one had audaciously gone up to him and asked if he was single. The male students were not as appreciative, the braver ones sending Darcy hateful glares.

"Who're you waiting for?"

Darcy jumped slightly, looking to the young man who'd spoken. The boy was fairly tall and ruggedly good-looking, sporting short, spiky blond hair and welcoming ocean blue eyes. There was a purpling bruise over his left eye plus a band-aid over the bridge of his nose; when the boy offered his hand for a shake, Darcy noted that it was strong and wrapped with bandages. Where the bandages didn't cover, calluses from the boy's hand pricked against Darcy's own.

"Frederick Wentworth – but you can call me Fred. You are?" Frederick introduced himself, smiling pleasantly; it reached his eyes, placating Darcy.

"William Darlington. Please _don't_ call me Will." Darcy smiled back, ears burning. He didn't like lying, but if Frederick didn't know who he was by face, Darcy didn't want to let him to know. Darcy preferred to not be recognized for his company, and if he admitted to being "Fitzwilliam Darcy" (or even "William Darcy"), the person whom he was speaking to always changed.

"Okay, William. Are you waiting for anyone? You don't look like a student." Frederick laughed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his oversized trousers. Although they were too big for him, Frederick kept them from sagging with a belt. From his appearance, Darcy could tell the young man was hard pressed for money instead of being a wanna-be gangster.

"No, I'm not. I'm waiting for Elizabeth Bennet… this is the science building, isn't it?" Darcy said, glancing up at the building where students entered and exited. None had been Elizabeth yet, and her class had let out seven minutes before Frederick had come along.

"Wait, you're here for Liz? Never thought I'd see the day! Stubborn as a mule, that one, but she's a good girl. Yeah, this is the science building; she'll be coming out soon. In fact, she'll be with my girl, Ana." Frederick commented, grin growing brighter. He sized Darcy up like a brother would for his sister's potential date, taking in Darcy's whole appearance. Darcy definitely stood out from the crowd with his towering height, and he was obviously older than all but some of the law and medical students. Although he was dressed casually in jeans and a nice shirt, Frederick could tell by the way Darcy held himself that he came from money.

"You're a Suit, aren't you?" Frederick inquired even though he knew it was true. His keen eyes spotted the Rolex watch wrapped snugly around Darcy's wrist and wondered what in the world Elizabeth was getting herself into.

"A 'Suit'?" Darcy asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't appreciate being checked out by Frederick.

"Um, yeah, a Suit. Big name company man with lots of cash. Kind of like that guy that helped Liz… out… you're him, aren't you? Fitzwilliam Darcy?" Frederick narrowed his eyes at Darcy, the truth dawning on him. His thoughts were cemented in when Darcy looked at the ground shamefully.

"Yes, Fred, I'm Fitzwilliam Darcy; I own Darcy Publishing." Darcy sighed, blush creeping onto his face form his ears. His stomach twisted in disgrace.

"Why'd you lie about your name? I haven't done anything to you." Frederick snapped.

"That's exactly why." Darcy replied cryptically, spotting Elizabeth leaving the science building with a dainty Hispanic girl. He left Frederick to seethe, approaching Elizabeth slowly until she noticed his presence. Elizabeth's face tinted pink and her eyes went wide when she did; Darcy smiled softly at her, stopping in his spot half way to her.

"Crispy? I thought… we agreed on meeting at…" Elizabeth trailed off uncertainly, abandoning a laughing Ana Elliot for Darcy. She made it to his side quickly, astonished when he pulled her in for a side hug.

"I wanted to surprise you. You didn't drive here, did you?" Darcy said, shrugging. This light Darcy was new to Elizabeth; it took her almost a full minute to respond.

"Eh, no, my aunt and uncle's house is nearby. I walked over."

"Excellent. Let's go, then. Shall we?" Darcy smiled once again, offering his arm jokingly to Elizabeth; still stupefied by this new attitude, Elizabeth took it almost cautiously, letting Darcy lead her to his car. She waved good-bye to Frederick and Ana when they passed the younger couple.

"He's a strange one." Frederick commented dryly, still trying to come to terms with why Darcy had misled him.

"He's a man in severe trouble of falling for Liz. Did you see the way he looked at Liz? We've got to keep Emma out of their way." Ana giggled, hugging her boyfriend. Frederick just shrugged, wrapping his arms protectively around her.

"Your friends sure like their guys older than them." He said, referring to their friend Emma's beau, Greg Knightley, who was twelve years older than her.

"You're older than me, Fred!"

"Shoosh. It's only a year's difference."

- (Crappy break line) -

Elizabeth could only stare at Darcy across the booth from her. Honestly, she didn't think he was able to smile so much; it was unnerving. The whole car ride over to the steakhouse was filled with Darcy asking her about her day and genuinely caring about it. He'd even thanked their waiteress when she left with their drink orders!

"I'm not acting, you know." Darcy commented dryly, smirking while he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. While it was bad manners to put your elbows on the dinner table, he figured that it was all right because they didn't have any food yet. Besides, he could easily watch Elizabeth this way, unbidden by distractions.

"I-I wasn't even…" Elizabeth started to deny his accusations, only to stop when Darcy started chuckling. She couldn't help but wonder if Richard had gotten him drunk or high.

"It's all over your face, Kitten. This… this is me, normally. If I was like this around Caroline, God knows what more she'd do to me. She's a bit terrifying, actually." Darcy shivered involuntarily at the thought of Caroline becoming even more forward in her attentions to him. What he wouldn't give to get her off his back! Elizabeth giggled at the revelation, trying to imagine Darcy being honestly scared of waif-like Caroline.

"Oi! You can't laugh until you have some guy that's off his rocker following your every move, spreading mendacity about you to keep other men at bay." Darcy pouted spectacularly, just as their waitress came back with their drinks; Elizabeth had ordered a Coke while Darcy had asked for iced water. Both Elizabeth and Jean, their waitress, blushed.

"Um, your drinks… would you like to order an appetizer? We have a special on our onion rings right now…" Jean said after a second, placing the drinks in front of the owners. She then proceeded to pull two wrapped straws from her fanny pack, putting them in the middle of the table between Darcy and Elizabeth.

"I have no objections to that. Do you, Kitten?" Darcy consulted Elizabeth, glancing down at the menu he hadn't even touched. He realized that it would, perhaps, be a good time to find out what he wanted to eat for dinner. Elizabeth flushed darker at his blatant use of a pet name for her, shaking her head furiously.

"Not at all."

"Then I'll bring one over shortly." Jean smiled, leaving the booth to tell all the other waitresses sneaking peeks at Darcy, debating between themselves if he was serious or not, that he was, indeed, taken and serious. It didn't stop them from occasionally glancing over because, really, it'd be a shame to let the chance of seeing such a handsome man go to waste.

"Don't call me 'Kitten', Crispy. Also, if you've forgotten, I have had a guy stalk me… but I have a feeling Caroline might be worse." Elizabeth admitted, smiling slightly. Darcy was glad she'd started to tease him since he thought he'd have to do damage control for mentioning a stalker; Bill Collins had easily escaped his mind since Darcy no longer had to wear the sling that did remind him of the little man's existence.

"I'll call you 'Elizabeth' if you call me 'Darcy'… Kitten." Darcy challenged, unwrapping a straw and placing it in his water; he waggled his eyebrows at Elizabeth when he took a sip. Elizabeth snorted, chewing on her lower lip to keep from laughing at the absurd look Darcy had on his face.

"Never! … Er, when did you stop wearing your sling, Crispy?" Elizabeth had been dying to ask him ever since she noticed that the sling was missing. Having only seen him for a few hours with out it before, Darcy had appeared weird to her.

"Exactly a week ago, two days after we got milk form the petrol station." Darcy replied, winking when he put extra emphasis on "petrol station." Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at him.

They were interrupted then by Jean placing a plate of piping hot onion rings in front of them, along with little cups of Ranch dressing and ketchup.

"Are you ready to order yet? Or are you still deciding?" Jean asked, gaze lingering on the obviously untouched menus.

"We're still deciding, thanks." Elizabeth said, even though it was unnecessary. She hid behind her menu when Jean departed saying she'd come back soon.

"You can get whatever you'd like; I'm paying." Darcy said, following Elizabeth's lead and disappearing behind his menu.

"Um… thanks, Crispy." Elizabeth peered over the menu at him, only seeing his eyes partly veiled by his bangs hanging low because of the way he slated his head to read the dishes. From this view, with the majority of his face concealed by the menu, Elizabeth could definitely see Angel in him.

"It's nothing, no need to thank me. This is my apology dinner, remember?" Darcy looked up, smiling slightly; Elizabeth ducked her head down quickly, not wanting to be caught in her staring.

"No, um, I don't know if I've ever properly thanked you for… saving me from Bill. So, thank you. And I'm sorry for ruining your birthday." Elizabeth set down her menu before speaking, locking her gaze onto Darcy's silver eyes. He blinked after she was done, a bit confused for a second.

"Ah. There's no need for that, either… I mean, your aunt and uncle already have thanked me, and Caroline had already done that for me. I would have searched the house and taken even Caroline, had she been there, out." Darcy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. For someone always in the spotlight, he detested it. Things had just started to go back to normal since the newspapers claimed him a hero, and he didn't want Elizabeth's thanks to remind him of his deed. Darcy had just done it naturally; he hadn't thought that morning, only acted. He didn't really know why everyone was making a big deal out of it since he figured (read: ignorantly wished) someone else would have done the same.

Elizabeth saw that Darcy had grown uncomfortable, but she wasn't done with him, not yet. She had to know, once and for all, if he was Angel, and the opportunity for finding out was ripe for the picking.

"Crispy… did you ever… what were you like as a kid?" Elizabeth started, then changed her mind about asking him directly first. She was going to ask Darcy, but only after she'd eased the topic in. Darcy took note of Elizabeth's different words, steeling himself for a question to come that he probably wouldn't like. Instead of answering, Darcy plucked an onion ring from the plate, dunked it in the Ranch dressing, and popped it into his mouth; he chewed thoughtfully, trying to figure how the subjects of him saving her and his past self were intertwined.

"Are you guys ready yet?"

Elizabeth jumped, startled, having not noticed Jean approaching them. Seeing the amused expression on Jean's face, she recognized that she still hadn't decided on what to eat.

"Um, actually—"

"Yes, I'll have the filet mignon, medium. As for sides… hmm…" Darcy paused, tapping the menu on his chin. He winked at Elizabeth for the second time, and she got his message. Quickly she scanned the entrées, searching for something she'd like while Darcy started asking questions on how the baked potato was served. Elizabeth settled for the prime rib just as Darcy finished saying he'd like the seasoned rice and sautéed green beans.

"And for you?" Jean turned to Elizabeth with a knowing smile. Though she wasn't sure why, Elizabeth blushed slightly.

"The 12 ounce prime rib, please, medium rare. I'll have the loaded mashed potatoes and mac 'n' cheese for sides. Thank you." Elizabeth watched Jean write down her order and walk away, trying to figure out why Jean had smiled like she had.

"To answer your question, Kitten, you'll need to be more specific. When I was a babe, I don't remember anything. Is that what you meant?" Darcy drew Elizabeth's attention back to himself, still smirking at her.

"Of course that's what I meant." Elizabeth sneered sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Okay, then. So, what do you think of New York?" Darcy ate another onion ring, feigning ignorance just to see what Elizabeth would do. Just like a cat, she ignored the new subject and went back to what she wanted to talk about.

"I-di-ot! You know I didn't mean when you were a baby! I meant like around thirteen or something…" Elizabeth snapped, much to his amusement. Cocking his head to the side, Darcy considered the question and the previous topic, linking the two together when Elizabeth took an onion ring. If he considered the affects of aging, Darcy could see the stubborn little girl being harassed in Elizabeth. Heck, he should have recognized her earlier; it wasn't every day you saw a girl with amber eyes! Although it hadn't been very important to him, lost in his memories from the events following it.

"Yes, I was a tiny arse brat with golden hair. I think I was once called an 'Angel.' Don't happen to know why, though." Darcy laughed softly, mirthlessly. What was it he'd been called later with such disdain? Someone to be counted on to do what he thought was right, an altruistic fool?

"Please, can we talk about something else? I don't like recalling that time." Darcy spoke softly when Elizabeth opened her mouth, eyes sparkling. He wondered how long it'd take her to connect the dots. Surely she couldn't have missed the big scandal, the uproar?

Seeing the way Darcy was retreating with his tail between his legs, Elizabeth let it drop. She had so many questions for him, but from his melancholy expression, she couldn't refuse his request.

"Sure, no problem. Ummm… well, can you tell me how you met Charlie? No offense, but if you're twenty-nine like Caroline said, you're four or five years older than him… and since y'all don't have the same profession, you couldn't have studied together…" Elizabeth trailed off uncertainly. It was weak but the first thing that had popped into her mind.

"That's easy. Our fathers went to school together and were best mates. I met them – Charles and Caroline, that is - years ago visiting New York then didn't see them again until a couple years ago. Since then, Charles and I have been best mates ourselves." Darcy explained, playing with his straw. He wished Caroline and Charles hadn't been twins or that Caroline hadn't stuck to Charles like glue. Then, he wouldn't have to be of acquaintance with her.

"Caroline has been after me since then, too. She's been the most persistent and didn't even have her mother on her back about going after me." Darcy laughed bitterly. Elizabeth's eyebrows quirked together as she stared at him quizzically until he explained further.

"Back home, we Darcys are like… the Kennedys, I guess. We're famous since we come from old money and all that. There are gold diggers everywhere, and since I'm the only Darcy heir – they think Gee, my sister, doesn't count because she's a girl – I'm very sought after. It's very tiresome." Darcy sighed ruefully.

"In all honesty, I could do with out the company and the wealth. I'd be very happy living in Pemberley on the English countryside where I'm untouchable by the press."

Elizabeth smiled at the picture he painted. From the unadulterated bliss in his eyes, she could tell he meant what he said, and since it got his sullen mood to rise, Elizabeth went after it.

"Tell me about Pemberley, Crispy. What is it, to begin with?" She asked. Darcy looked up, gazing into Elizabeth's eyes for a minute. Most of the time, if someone asked him about Pemberley, they wanted how much the property was worth and what the house was filled with; Elizabeth, however, was all smiles and curious looks. He severely doubted if she wanted to know Pemberley's net worth.

"It's the property that's been in my family for ages. We have…" Darcy went on to tell Elizabeth of the rolling hills covered with crops, the sprawling forests he'd explored as a lad, and the paddocks for the horses Pemberley Stables owned. She listened with rapt attention as he described how they rotated the crops and what they grew at Pemberley to sell at farmer's markets around England; they even made homemade jams with recipes one of the Darcy women perfected in 1811. Next came the stables and the race horses Pemberley Stables bred and raced; Darcy was able to tell Elizabeth a few funny stories concerning himself, Richard, and a horse.

When Darcy was finishing his amusing story of how Tannhäuser, the horse, had chased him and Richard into a river during the winter, their food came. Elizabeth was disappointed with the interruption until she took a bite of her prime rib.

"This is great!" She exclaimed, trying her side dishes to see if they were just as delectable; they were. Darcy smiled at her enthusiasm, sampling his own food as well.

"Delicious. Want a bite?" Boldly, Darcy held up his fork with a bit of meat speared on it. Elizabeth considered the option, wanting to try the filet mignon but also aware of where the fork had just been; it seemed a bit too intimate to her to eat off the same fork as Darcy when, until the beginning of the dinner, she hadn't liked him very much.

"If you want to put it on my plate, yeah." Elizabeth said, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks. She could easily hear her friend, Charlotte's, voice in her mind, screeching at the missed opportunity of... well, flirting back with a handsome, eligible bachelor. Darcy nodded, stealing a bit of her mac 'n' cheese after putting the piece of meat on her plate next to the prime rib.

"Want to just split?" Elizabeth laughed at his audacity, sampling the piece of filet mignon he'd given her.

"Why not." Darcy shrugged, savoring the mac 'n' cheese he'd taken. He hadn't expected the food to be that good and planned on writing a good review when he got back to his hotel room later on.

"Tell me more about Pemberley, Crispy." Elizabeth encouraged, digging into her red meat. Darcy, in the middle of chewing on some green beans, pointed at her; Elizabeth paused with her fork half way to her mouth, discerning what he meant.

"I don't have interesting stories to tell, Crispy. I grew up in a small, backwater town in Texas called Meryton. I have two younger sisters, Lydia and Kathleen, plus two parents, Wayne and Fatina Bennet. I was number two in my graduating class of 175 kids. There's not much more to tell." Elizabeth shrugged, thinking of how dull her life must be compared to Darcy's. While irate horses were chasing him, she was cleaning up after them at her friend's ranch for pocket money. While he was living it up on Pemberley, she was furiously studying to be the valedictorian because she needed scholarship money or else she wouldn't get into a good college.

"Well, if not about the past, what about the present and future? Congratulations, by the way, at being the salutatorian, Kitten." Darcy suggested, taking another bite of his green beans. Elizabeth smiled at his praise, acutely feeling how warm her face was getting.

"Thanks. Well, I'm majoring in English right now, minoring in the history of literature. I still have to get my basics out of the way because I had to take a year off to save up enough money to pay for tuition." She replied, quickly stuffing her face before he could question her any more. It was embarrassing admitting to being not well off to someone who was probably one of the wealthiest men in the world… or at least the UK. Either way, she felt small thinking of how much Darcy must be worth.

"By graduating as the salutatorian, didn't you get scholarships?" Darcy inquired, tilting his head to the side slightly, reminding Elizabeth of a puppy.

"Well, yes, but with my mother's excessive spending on my little sisters – or, rather, just Lydia, my college funds were rather depleted. I'm glad my Uni still wanted me even after I told them I'd need a year off to save up enough, and now I'm on a full ride here in New York." Elizabeth answered, stealing one of the green beans Darcy seemed to enjoy so much. In retribution, Darcy snagged some mashed potatoes from her bowl.

"I can help you if you ever need someone to go over your essays or something, but, I must warn you…" Darcy paused for dramatic effect. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at him, figuring he'd say it'd cost her.

"I'm what they call a severely harsh 'Grammar Nazi.'" Darcy dashed her deigns to reject his offer. Elizabeth raised her eyebrow, smirking at him.

"You, sir, have caught my interest. My fellow students call me a 'Grammar Nazi on crack' and pay me to review their English work." She joshed. Elizabeth found going over the English work of her peers fun and also rewarding at how much they were willing to pay her; depending on how long the piece was, she could ask for upwards of one hundred dollars. They'd still pay her regardless of how high the price went. She put the money away into her bank account, and, for once in Elizabeth's life, it had a respectable amount within it.

"I challenge you, then, Kitten. Send me a copy of your next English paper, and I'll go over it. If I can find a mistake, you owe me a home cooked dinner; if I can't, I'll cook dinner for you. Deal?" Darcy dared Elizabeth, setting down his fork to offer his hand so they could shake on it. Never one to back down from a contest, Elizabeth agreed to his terms, grasping his larger hand within her own.

"You're going down, Crispy." Elizabeth smirked. While she wasn't sure of her cooking skills because of an incident of burning white rice, Elizabeth was cocksure of her grammar skills. The one thing that had stayed constant in her life was her uncanny ability to understand what all the English teachers said; English and Reading had always been her best subjects because of that.

"Kitten, I believe it is you who will lose this bet. I own and run a publishing company, remember? I hope you can cook well since my taste buds are used to exquisite foods." Darcy countered, also very confident in his English skills. He was, however, more attuned to the fictional world of books since he was a sci-fi junkie and let someone else review the better non-fiction works people sent to Darcy Publishing in hopes of being printed.

Jean appeared then with a water pitcher and another glass of Coke for Elizabeth, setting it down next to her nearly empty cup before refilling Darcy's.

"Sorry to interrupt. Is everything okay? Do you need something?" Jean asked politely, surveying the table. With the refills out of the way, everything looked shipshape to her, but it didn't matter what she thought if the customer disagreed since the customer was always right.

"No, everything is fine, thank you." Darcy dismissed her with a small smile.

"What do you want to do for a living, Kitten?" Darcy turned to Elizabeth warmly. While he was perfectly content to throw insults at her for laughs, he'd prefer to get to know her better. The insult trading could wait until a alter date.

"Well, actually…" Elizabeth stopped, frowning slightly. She remembered the way Darcy treated Caroline when she wanted him to go over her books to publish them. Would he think she was doing the same if she admitted to wanting to be an author?

"I'm not going to think bad about you, Kitten, and, besides, my opinion shouldn't matter to you." Darcy said gently when she didn't finish. He hoped his opinion would matter to Elizabeth in the future, but currently, he had no right to try and direct her life.

"I'm not trying to, um, seduce you or anything…" Elizabeth started awkwardly, chewing on her lip. Darcy wouldn't have cared if she were; in fact, he'd probably welcome it with open arms.

"That sounded wrong. Um. I want to be an author, but that doesn't mean I want to be published by you or am trying to get in your good books so I can. I mean, it'd be cool, since you're a famous company, but—"

"I get it, Kitten. You don't have to explain yourself." Darcy chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"Have you been writing already? It'd be good to get in the practice early." He asked, passing over the uneaten half of his meal to trade with her. Elizabeth helped him rearrange the plates safely before replying.

"Yeah… I write fanfiction – er, fiction written by fans, if y'didn't know – and publish it on a few websites. I've gotten pretty good reviews so far, but that's small time stuff, I know." Elizabeth shrugged modestly.

"I know what fanfiction is; Dick writes his own, actually, for Dc Comics… mostly Batman, though. Personally, I haven't read any, but I'm sure it's not as small as you're saying it is. Brag a bit more, Kitten. What do you write about?" Darcy smiled encouragingly, honestly wanting to hear more. He'd heard from respectable people that fanfiction writers could be the future of the writing industry since a good amount were just teenagers or college kids; even the older ones had the ability to revolutionize the writing world if they wrote part time. He'd even read in the Time magazine that fanfiction was what the book world would be like if Earth survived a nuclear apocalypse. (1) Elizabeth was surprised by the interest Darcy was showing but was happy, if a bit humbly, to comply and answer his inquiries.

Elizabeth told Darcy all about the types of fanfiction she wrote, the ones she read, and the reviews she usually received; Darcy, in turn, revealed his inner geek and told her about the sci-fi and fantasy books that were presented to him to read. That progressed their conversations onto favorite books and writers when Jean came around and asked if they'd like a desert. Since Elizabeth said she was stuffed to the gills, Darcy got the check instead.

When the time came, Elizabeth was sad, hesitant even, to leave Darcy's company while he stalled the car on the side of the road in front of the Gardiner's home. Although he didn't voice it, Darcy's thoughts were running along the same lines.

"Listen… I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let me correct myself: I gave you a horrible impression of myself, and I'd love to change it. I'd like to become friends with you, Elizabeth Bennet." Darcy said, looking deeply into Elizabeth's eyes. She blinked in shock; if she was entirely truthful, Elizabeth hadn't thought that Darcy wanted to be her friend. Despite the reason as to why he'd asked her to dinner, the night had passed more like a date than a dinner between friends; Elizabeth had gotten the feeling Darcy was flirting with her. She had hoped he wouldn't ask her out officially, but no she didn't have to do the less than desirable rejection speech she'd thought of. While Darcy had shown himself to be good company for a second night, Elizabeth wasn't entirely sure of his character yet, and that alone would keep her at bay. While she wasn't averse to spending time with him, she didn't want to get too close to only get heart broken.

"And I'm perfectly okay to be friends with you, Fitzwilliam Crispin Darcy. You wanna hang out sometime?" Elizabeth smiled, both glad and disappointed that Darcy didn't seem romantically interested in her.

"Hey, that's not fair; you know my middle name but I don't know yours!" Darcy exclaimed, making Elizabeth giggle.

"If you must know, Crispy, it's Margaret." She said, causing a smile to appear on Darcy's face.

"Then, Elizabeth Margaret Bennet, I would love to 'hang out' sometime. How about you text or call me later? I see some giggling litter girls waiting for you." Darcy pointed past Elizabeth's shoulder. Elizabeth turned to see the tops of her cousins' heads disappearing below the window and the curtains closing sharply.

"Will do, Crispy. I'm going to go teach them a lesson. See you." Elizabeth awkwardly waved getting out of his car. Darcy waved back, chuckling to himself. Elizabeth quickly went up to the door of her relatives' house, entering to be immediately accosted by Noelle and Bonnie.

"Who's your boyfwend?"

"Does he haf cooties?"

"He looks pwetty!"

"He looks _old_, like Da!"

"First of all, he's _not_ my boyfriend. Second of all, yes, he's got cooties and now I've got them." Elizabeth grinned wickedly at Bonnie and Noelle, who screeched about the horrors of getting cooties.

"Now you're gonna get them!"

"MUM! IZZY GOTS COOTIES!" Noelle hollered, running away with Bonnie hot on her tail to find their mother, who didn't have cooties, to protect them. Elizabeth laughed, chasing her younger cousins around the house to their revulsion.

**A/N**: (1) _"__Fanfiction is what literature might look like if it were reinvented from scratch after a nuclear apocalypse by a band of brilliant pop-culture junkies trapped in a sealed bunker." – Lee Grossman in Time magazine, 2011. Be proud, fellow fanfiction writers! :) I could no resist, lol._

_Also, can someone please explain to me why everyone has Caroline wear orange? It's so vexing that every P&P fanfiction I've read of late has her in orange. I can understand one, but all? Something's up._

**Edit**_: Sorry for the "new chapter," guys. I realized I'd renamed Mr. Bennet "Thad" this chapter and had to fix it before someone else saw it, too, lol. Also, I'd forgotten that Wimbledon is on now for 12 lovely hours every day, so the chances of chapter 8 coming out on time is slim to none._

_~ Tobi_


	7. The Third Degree

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I wish I were that awesome.  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Sailor D<span>reamer95: Aw, thank you so much! C: Huh, I never noticed Caroline wearing orange… I blame it on Colin Firth, lol. I own the disc set for the miniseries, so I think I'll have to watch it again soon. It really is a must-watch for any P&P fan.  
><span>Amandald98<span>: I think I can guess why it's your favorite, lol. xD Thanks fro reviewing and telling me about Caroline's dress!  
><span>Justlovefanfiction2901<span>: Thank you. :) That's what I thought until it was in everyone's story.  
><span>Cvtperez<span>: Thank you for the review. :3  
><span>Calanmire424<span>: Really? Thank you! :D Aha, that's why I won't be putting her in orange… my eyes hurt just thinking about a ginger wearing orange.  
><span>Clarinetto14<span>: Thank you! :)  
><span>Nuingarien<span>: You'll just have to wait and see. ;) Lol, it's a conspiracy all right – a conspiracy to make Caroline look bad. But she'd be the only one complaining.  
><span>Lena<span>: Thanks! :) You'll definitely see Bonnie and Noelle, for sure. Well, apparently in BBC's 1995 miniseries, they had Caroline wearing an orange dress.  
><span>Chickenonaraft<span>: Lol, seriously? Wow. Thanks for reviewing – best wishes to you, too! :D (Also, I love your username.)

**- The Third Degree -**

Darcy, after pulling away from the Gardiner's house, decided to go back to the office even though it was close to 8:30 when everyone else but the janitors would be gone or going home. Pouring over a few pending stories, he was able to concentrate on what had happened on the "not date," as he'd come to refer to it mentally from Richard's badgering of it being a "date." Darcy didn't think he'd acted _too_ friendly, but he hoped that Elizabeth noticed that he had tried hard to get into her good books. It wasn't every day he took a woman to dinner as an apology then ended up splitting entrées with her, after all! Nor was it normal for him to share his childhood memories with a near stranger (it pained him to think that, although it was true).

Darcy put down the story he was going over, frowning softly. Childhood memories. He'd completely forgotten about helping the tiny little girl get ice cream, and it surprised him that the girl had been Elizabeth. It hadn't been the first time Darcy had helped someone in need, but it had been the last time because of the accident that followed it. The hairs on the back of Darcy's neck stood on end as the memories washed over him.

"_God, you're such a prick! I can always count on you to do the 'honorable' thing, Will! I heard that you helped that idiot Brian back at Pemberley… you should've just let him hurt himself."_

The crushing, shifting sensation rushed over Darcy, suffocating him. Hurriedly, he stumbled over to one of his filing cabinets, pulling his key ring from his pocket. Jamming the correct key into the keyhole on the top shelf, Darcy unlocked the drawer, yanking it open in desperation. He snatched the little packet and equally tiny plastic item from the top of the files most precious to him and all but ran out of his office and down the twenty flights of stairs to leave the building. Outside, Darcy leaned heavily against his building, panting not from exertion but memories drowning him; he held his hand out in front of him containing the slightly crushed pack of cigarettes and a little Bic lighter. He was thrown disgusted as he lighted up and took a long, calming drag from the item that'd slowly kill him.

"You a such a weak, _weak_ person, Darcy…" Darcy berated himself mentally, not able to call himself a "man" since he was falling to his vices. Normally, he didn't smoke, but when the pressure got too heavy, choking the life out of him, nothing calmed Darcy more than a cigarette. Growing up, he'd seen his father, uncles, grandfather, and even his surrogate father, Magnus Reynolds, smoke cigars or pipes regularly; he'd never understood their addiction until he tried cigarettes in his later teen years. To comfort himself, Darcy had always reminded himself that smoking was better than drinking, at any rate.

When the cigarette had been burn down to the nub and crushed under the toe of Darcy's shoe, Darcy's phone started vibrating loudly, spitting out the old Batman theme song. Sighing, Darcy pulled the device from his pocket and flipped it open, holding it to his ear.

"Yes, Dick?" He asked sullenly, carefully pocketing his lighter and half-filled pack of cigarettes.

"Well, I was just wondering if your date with Lizzie was done with." Richard's voice came from the receiver as Darcy headed slowly back into the Darcy Publishing building, taking the elevator back up to his office instead of the stairs. The urgency in his extremities had depleted to the point where all Darcy wanted to do was stretch out on his bed and sleep everything off; even then, he couldn't because the bed in his hotel room wasn't long enough for him to do so with out his feet hanging off.

"I wouldn't have even noticed my phone going off if it wasn't." Darcy sneered. At first, he meant it to be insulting to Richard, but as his words sank in, creating a lull in the cousins' conversation, he realized that it was the truth. Darcy really wouldn't have answered his pone or even acknowledged it at all had it rung during his "not date" with Elizabeth.

"Man, you're pretty gone. I don't think you've been that was since… since Leslie. Bloody hell, it has been since Leslie!" Richard laughed loudly into Darcy's ear; Darcy ended up holding the phone away from his head until his cousins' laughter died down. Reminiscing, Darcy couldn't help but agree with Richard; Elizabeth was the first once since his first love that he wouldn't accept, or even notice, distractions while with her. He had had girlfriends in the ten years between the women, but none had really caught his attention so much. He could count all his past flames with his hands, and he only needed two fingers for those that had gotten past second base… one if he counted the ones he remembered.

"Your point?" Darcy ground out as the elevator pinged, notifying him he was back on the twentieth floor.

"You're not even _'dating'_ Lizzie yet!" Richard crowed, hurting Darcy's ear again. Darcy shrugged, forgetting Richard couldn't see him as he made his way into his office to tidy things up before leaving.

"I take it your silence means…?" Richard trailed off, reminding Darcy that his cousin wasn't walking at his side. Sighing, Darcy shut down his computer, rolling his eyes.

"It means I'll be there in a few. Good bye, Dick." Darcy flipped his phone shut, not even waiting for a reply. He gazed around his office to make sure nothing was out of place before locking it up, conscious of the items still shoved haphazardly into his pocket. Darcy could already feel the almost paranoid feeling coming over him, telling him he needed another. Shoving those feelings into a corner, he left the office about as slowly as he'd gone back up, taking his sweet time in getting back to the hotel where Richard was waiting eagerly.

"So, how was it?" Richard grinned at Darcy from his criss-cross-apple-sauce position on his bed, clad in just his boxers. Since Darcy had already been taken for the night, Richard had left work at eight, gone to a pub to get buzzed, and headed straight to the hotel room to wait for his cousin. While waiting, Richard had undressed, played a few video games, and even had the time to channel surf; when the hour finger had slid past ten on the clock, he'd called Darcy. Considering Elizabeth's cool attitude towards Darcy and the fact the dinner was an "apology" one, Richard hadn't thought things would go so well that the dinner would last over five hours.

"Fine. She's agreed to be friends with me, and we've got a bet going on. Whoever loses cooks the other one dinner." Darcy explained, tugging off his shirt and throwing it over to the business suit he'd discarded in haste before going over to Elizabeth's campus to pick her up. He bent down over the drawer deemed his in the small chest of drawers provided by the hotel, rooting around for a clean pair of underwear and an undershirt to sleep in. Richard watched Darcy with concern, oblivious to what was wrong. He'd never known of Darcy's smoking habit and attributed the smell to sitting next to the smoking section at the restaurant. The thing that tipped him off that something was wrong was the fact that Darcy seemed apathetic, disinterested even, towards his "not date" with Elizabeth.

"So you're cool?" Richard asked suspiciously, eyeing the expanse of Darcy's back when Darcy straightened out. He missed Darcy's hateful look.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired. I went back to the office to iron some things out. It's been a long day." Darcy didn't have to feign exhaustion; he felt weariness even in his bones. Not giving Richard a backwards glance, Darcy headed into the bathroom to shower; he didn't want to sleep with the acrid stench of burnt nicotine on his skin.

Richard let Darcy go with out questioning him further even though he was worried. He knew of Darcy's tendency to bottle things up but couldn't tell if Darcy was avoiding something or just really was tired – or maybe both. For someone who despised acting, when he wasn't lying outright, Darcy was a good actor; he'd always been able to shun the thing she didn't want to face. It was a defensive mechanism that started when Darcy's parents died, and Richard wondered at how much their family had let Darcy get away with by not questioning him more. The tattoo on Darcy's back was sufficient proof that they hadn't tried hard enough to get through to him.

- (Crappy break line) -

"I don't think you should trust that Darcy fellow." Amelia said as soon and Elizabeth entered the Barnes and Noble they worked at. Elizabeth clocked in before confronting Amelia.

"Why? You don't know him other than his appearance." Elizabeth stated, feeling offended. Although Amelia wasn't aware of the tentative friendship she had with Darcy, it didn't mean she'd listen to Amelia try and boss her around.

"He's bad news, that's all. Besides, don't you dislike him? Too arrogant for your tastes, right?" Amelia laughed, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Why is he 'bad news'?" Elizabeth ignored Amelia's questions, hungry for information about Darcy to make out his character. She'd seen the "real" him, or so Darcy said, the aloof him, and his downright malicious side; currently, she didn't know which one was the "real" him. He had too many facets to his personality for her to peg him right. Amelia waved Elizabeth over, looking around at the few customers milling about apprehensively.

"Well, I've got an ex that knew him – bellyached all the time about how Darcy ruined his future. I dumped him because he couldn't get over feeling sorry for himself – bit of a pussy, that one. If I'm dating a guy, I want a man, not some wimp. But, anyways, George, my ex, said that Darcy didn't let him get his part of the money Darcy senior had left him. They grew up childhood friends or something, and Darcy's old man left George some dough. He never got it 'cause Darcy didn't like that his father loved George better or some crap like that. This is the believable part of George's story. He then went on saying that Darcy accidentally killed his own family. That I wouldn't buy. No one that popular now could hide something like that for so long without going insane." Amelia whispered in Elizabeth's ear. While she had enough to make a pretty penny on a scandalous magazine article, Amelia wasn't going to do anything with her information. It was private business, and she didn't spread private business that wasn't hers.

"I wouldn't put too much stock into it, though, considering George hasn't tried to sue Darcy for his money or sell the story. It might be because he hasn't got money for a lawyer, but still. I'd stay away from Darcy regardless considering what circles he runs around in. He's still got that silver spoon he was born with still held tightly between those gorgeous lips."

Elizabeth frowned, digesting the new information. The story seemed ludicrous; George must have been completely bonkers. And yet, she could see the aloof side of Darcy keeping someone from inheriting money from his father's will, but not for the reasons George said and certainly not just for the heck of it. If the money bit was true, Elizabeth was surprised to find herself thinking Darcy, if he really did keep George from the money, did it with good motive. Even if she hadn't gotten on better terms with Darcy, Elizabeth didn't think she'd believe the tall tale since Darcy, though taciturn and boorish, didn't seem intentionally cruel.

"I think that's a bunch of malarkey, Amelia, and Darcy isn't that arrogant." Elizabeth commented, turning her gaze around the store to find something else to occupy herself. If Amelia was going to be spouting things about Darcy, she didn't want to hear them. Elizabeth had a hard time figuring him out as it was; she didn't need Amelia's half-baked sob stories from some ex-boyfriend to be thrown into the mix.

"Elizabeth Bennet, as I live and breath! Is that really you? Am I dreaming?"

Elizabeth laughed at the teasing voice, facing her best friend, Charlotte. Because of their schedules clashing horribly, the friends hadn't been able to meet up since Elizabeth had moved into New York. Although Charlotte was older than Elizabeth by a good few years, she didn't look nor act it; Charlotte certainly looked as much as a college student as Elizabeth did with her fashion style. Charlotte had completely embraced the "hipster" style that had popped up in teen culture, and she completely rocked it. Elizabeth was slightly surprised and had to do a double take since the last time she'd seen Charlotte was on a Skype call three years previous where Charlotte was trying to appease her parents still, painting her face with make-up and getting into the "high society fashion." While they had kept in touch via emails, texts, and phone calls, Charlotte hadn't mentioned anything to Elizabeth about her transformation.

Charlotte had last been a platinum blond wearing clothes Caroline Bingley would approve of with way too much make-up and perfume; now, Elizabeth stared at her friend's natural hair color of light brown with blond highlights swept into a messy side ponytail, holy skinny jeans, a well-worn hoodie that was too big for her, and horn-rimmed glasses. The alteration was amazing - and not in a bad way.

"Wow, Charlie, you look great! What about your parentals?" Elizabeth hugged her much taller friend over the counter, wearing a wide grin. She couldn't believe Charlotte was actually there in the store with her; it was such a surprise.

"If you're referring to my clothes, I convinced them that this in the height of fashion. Everything else it too 'mainstream.'" Charlotte winked, laughing with Elizabeth at the bad joke until Amelia cleared her throat.

"Oh, Charlie, this is Amelia Younge, my co-worker. Amelia, this is Charlotte Lucas, the coolest loser you'll ever have the pleasure of meeting." Elizabeth introduced them, deserving the sharp poke to the ribs she got from Charlotte.

"I thought we decided you were the coolest loser and I'm just too awesome for everyone else." Charlotte asked, raising her eyebrows primly. Elizabeth shrugged while Charlotte and Amelia shook hands; she wasn't surprised when Amelia winked at Charlotte.

"When do you get done here, Maggie? Let's go out to dinner." Charlotte turned back to Elizabeth, Amelia forgotten already. Since she'd arrived in New York, Elizabeth hadn't emailed Charlotte on what she was doing, only trying to find a night to go out and have fun; Charlotte wanted to know how Elizabeth was fairing after the incident on Halloween.

"Let's see… my shift ends right before my calculus two class, but we can go out after that if you're still free around six, Charlie." Elizabeth suggested, also forgetting about Amelia's presence even though said woman was right next to her. Seeing that she was being left out, Amelia left with a pout to see if a customer needed her help.

"I took today off work, so I'm free today." Charlotte replied, smirking. If she was perfectly honest, she did take work off partly to catch up with Elizabeth, but she'd never admit to that, just saying she wanted to chill for a Tuesday to recover from one particularly malicious Monday. She'd be in a tight spot when she was actually sick, but she'd deal with that when it happened.

"Okay, I heard from Charlie – another Charlie – about this nice burger joint downtown. Meet me on campus?" Elizabeth asked. After getting the affirmation, she gave directions to Charlotte to the correct building on her campus and watched her oldest friend leave.

Ironically, around a quarter after six, Elizabeth and Charlotte sat in the booth that Darcy and Richard chose unless it was already taken. Before talking, the young women went over the menus to choose what they wanted for dinner.

"What can I—Lizzie?" Their server interrupted their menu pursuing. Elizabeth looked up to the face of James Denny.

"James! How are you? Why are you working here?" She smiled up at him warmly. James returned the favor, just with a tad bit of reserve; Darcy's protective glare was still fresh on his mind.

"I'm doing well. Still training for the team and all. This is my second job so I don't go into debt. How are you and that guy doing?" James asked, knowing he wasn't supposed to strike up conversations with customers, but it was a slow night. Besides, even if she was taken, Elizabeth was still pretty, and her friend was a sight for sore eyes. Charlotte eyes Elizabeth inquisitively, a smile slowly forming on her face; her little Elizabeth was growing up!

"What guy?" Elizabeth questioned, eyebrows quirking together; she couldn't remember being with any guy when she saw James. James blushed slightly, wondering if he'd made a mistake.

"Um, the real tall dude – like 6'6' or something… sunglasses on his head, dark curly hair… right arm in a sling… overall fierce look to him. He was glaring at me when we were talking about you spending the night at your friend's place, and since you were wearing a shirt way too big for you, I figured… eh… am I wrong?" James quickly turned red as he rambled, talking with his hands; he held his hand was up high to represent the height, mimed putting sunglasses on top of his head, feigned having a sling, and even gave his best shot at the cold stare he'd been given. He didn't know what to think when Elizabeth broke out in laughter.

"Oh, James! He's – we're not… a couple or anything. Anyways, I'm great, he's out of his sling and doing fine." Elizabeth giggled, face reddening slightly at the mere thought of being Darcy's girlfriend. With those looks and that voice, he'd make anyone a happy girl just to walk with him. When Charlotte cleared her throat, Elizabeth figured she wanted to be introduced, not that she wanted to hear about Darcy.

"Oh! I'm sorry! James, this is my good friend Charlotte. Charlotte, this is James; we've met twice before." Elizabeth said, nodding to both. James smiled shyly, giving a little wave to Charlotte; even though he knew Elizabeth wasn't taken now, he really couldn't find himself caring with Charlotte grinning like that.

"Hey. I'm sorry, but I've got to take your orders before Tommy is on my ass for chatting up two beautiful customers. Do you women know what you want to drink, perhaps what you'd like to eat? Need an appetizer to help you think?" James, though he directed the question at both Elizabeth and Charlotte, kept his eyes trained mostly on the latter.

"I'll take a Budweiser, if you've got it." Charlotte said first, trying to find the drink section of the menu. Her neck was starting to feel warm from James' nearly incessant gaze.

"We do, Charlotte." James replied smoothly just as Charlotte found the section in the very back of the menu.

"Please, call me Charlie, James." Charlotte didn't even look back up at him, going to the burger section of the menu again. He was a cute kid, emphasis on the kid part, but she didn't really appreciate the attention he was giving her. Sitting across from Elizabeth, an infamous Bennet beauty down in Meryton, she felt as if she didn't compare because of all the comments she'd heard about being plain, ugly, or downright revolting from children to her own parents.

"All right, Charlie. Lizzie? What'll you have?" James finally turned his eyes to Elizabeth, calming Charlotte.

"A Coke, please, James. I don't think we'll need an appetizer." Elizabeth glanced at Charlotte, who shrugged noncommittally.

"Okay, coming right up, ladies. Do you need a few more minutes to decide what burger you want? I gotta say, the bacon half-pounder is to die for." James nodded, puling out his little notebook just in case.

"I'm ready if Charlie is." Elizabeth once more turned James' interest back to Charlotte unintentionally. Charlotte ordered a guacamole burger with seasoned fries without even looking at James, placing the menu back where she'd found it on the end of the table; Elizabeth ordered the bacon half-pounder that James advised with steak fries.

"What do you think of James?" Elizabeth smirked when said young man was gone, giving their order to the chef.

"Nice _boy_." Charlotte shrugged, catching Elizabeth's drift. She was already planning the third degree about James' giant mystery man when Elizabeth was done trying to set her up.

"Charlie, he's just a bit younger than you. I think he's twenty-five or so; he just looks young. He's in med school _and_ will be on the school's baseball team." Elizabeth countered, shoving Charlotte's Achilles heel right in her face. Charlotte had always loved men, and if one could have a theme song, hers would be, "Hallelujah, It's Raining Men," by the Weather Girls. The men Charlotte liked most of all played sports, and even above them were baseball players. At a young age, Charlotte had watched a Yankee game with her father in the Yankee Stadium and had been obsessed ever since with both the team and the sport.

"Maggie, that's just cold. Besides, he's into you." Charlotte groaned, laying her head on the table. Elizabeth laughed and shook her head.

"Nu-uh! After I introduced y'all, he only had eyes for you, and you know it, Charlie!"

"You're full of it. I won't see him again, so drop it." Charlotte grumbled just as James returned to their table bearing their drinks.

"Here you go, ladies. Your burgers will be out in just a bit, but give me a holler if you need anything." James winked, setting down the drinks with a straw for Elizabeth. He planned on putting his number on the receipt, like he had done to Elizabeth's Block Buster one, in hope that Charlotte would get it.

"Moving on, who was this monster of a guy James asked you about? The 6'6'-ish guy?" Charlotte turned the tables once James was gone, smirking impishly as Elizabeth immediately turned red.

"He's not 6'6'; he's 6'4 and a half!" Elizabeth snapped, half wanting to divulge her problem to Charlotte, half not in fear of the relentless teasing that would come along with the help.

"Well, glad we cleared that up - only one and a half inches difference! He's still a freakin' giant!" Charlotte retorted sarcastically, sitting up. It was really too easy sometimes to ruffle Elizabeth's feathers.

"I'd love to see him standing next to you, actually… he'd seem even taller." Charlotte commented, snickering. Childishly, Elizabeth blew a raspberry at her instead of answering with words; Elizabeth knew she only came up to Darcy's chest, which was what Charlotte was getting at.

"Oh, oh! Better yet! Can we get him to wear purple pants and paint his skin green?" Charlotte cackled, trying to get Elizabeth to crack and spill the beans.

"Crispy isn't the Hulk, Charlie!" Elizabeth snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

"His name is 'Crispy'? Darn… that's anticlimactic…" Charlotte commented, trying to come up with a name that would result in a nickname like "Crispy," however, all she drew were blanks.

"His name isn't 'Crispy'… his name is Fitzwilliam Darcy." Elizabeth sighed, knowing she'd never hear the end of it now if she didn't talk. She needed to, anyways, because it wasn't like Jane liked Darcy. Her aunt and uncle were also off the list since her uncle was, well, a guy, and her aunt would chalk it all up to idolizing Darcy.

"_The_ Fitzwilliam Darcy? No way! You've spent the night at the Darcy heir's house?" Charlotte cried, causing Elizabeth to flush. She spoke in such a loud voice that people two tables over looked in their direction.

"Ssshh! Charlie, you're being too loud!" Elizabeth groaned, burying her face in her arms. It would be just her luck if someone decided to take a picture of her and sell it to a magazine.

"Sorry. _The_ Fitzwilliam Darcy? No way! You've spent the night at the Darcy heir's house?" Charlotte stage whispered. Elizabeth debated over banging her head on the table or not; not won since they were in a public place.

"No, I haven't. I spent the night at Charlie's place… Charles Bingley, my friend Jane Bingley's husband. Charlie's best friend is—"

"Fitzwilliam Crispin Darcy, owner and CEO of Darcy Publishing. He's 6'4' and a half, about two hundred pounds, turned twenty-nine on Halloween, was recently in a kidnapping escapade where he wasn't even the target…. Born and raised in Derbyshire, England, by his parents who died tragically in a fire on their boat a little over sixteen years ago… his little sister, whom he has joint custody over, is Georgiana Darcy…"

Elizabeth stared at Charlotte in disbelief as Charlotte started speaking, gaze going beneath the table. Her mouth was wide open by the time Charlotte trailed off.

"What the heck, Charlie? Did you just Google Crispy?"

"… Maybe. There's a slight chance I did Google him and click on his Wikipedia page. But just a slight chance, nothing concrete." Charlotte said, quickly hiding her phone in her purse.

"I saw that, you butt-head!" Elizabeth cried, pointing dramatically at her friend.

"Saw what?" Charlotte pretended to be innocent, looking around for a suitable distraction.

"Look, it's James!" She waved as James came over with their respective orders.

"Okay, I'll come by every now and then, but don't be afraid to call me over if you need anything, from refills to dessert. I'll see you ladies later." James said as he passed out the two plates, giving Charlotte a farewell smile before departing.

"He has the hots for you." Elizabeth teased, grabbing the ketchup bottle from next to the menus.

"And Fitzwilliam obviously has the hots for you, Maggie." Charlotte countered before biting into her burger. She wanted to know more about Darcy; all she knew was that he'd been with Elizabeth when that creep Bill Collins or whatever kidnapped her.

"Tell Aunty Charlie all about your Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"He's not _my_ Fitzwilliam Darcy!" Elizabeth choked on her fries momentarily; Charlotte laughed at her. Grumbling to herself, Elizabeth didn't say anything until after she'd finished her fries.

"Well, first, at Charlie's party on Halloween, he was okay. A bit taciturn, but still okay, y'know? Then after that whole Billy Collins ordeal, he tells Charlie Bingley in the hospital that, basically, I'm a bitch." Elizabeth started, taking the time to sip her drink.

"No way! Asshole. If he didn't like you, why'd he hang out with you all night?" Charlotte growled, scandalized for her friend. Elizabeth, like everyone, sometimes had her moments, but she was definitely not a bitch.

"Well, whatever Billy Collins drugged him with accidentally made him forget everything. So, rightly pissed off, I give him the cold shoulder or am just borderline polite to him whenever I saw him again for the court case. Then, I got out to eat with Jane and Charlie Bingley, but he's there as well as Charlie Bingley's gardening tool of a twin, Caroline. Crispy is always staring at me at that point, and I think he's trying to find defects in me. I ignore him, basically.

"After that, on Black Friday, I plan to go shopping with Jane and Charlie Bingley to get to know Charlie better. Guess who shows up? Crispy." Elizabeth continued with the story, going all out because she really wanted a second opinion on all that had happened. While Charlotte might not have the best answer, having not been present during it all and only being able to get Elizabeth's side of the story, she was Elizabeth's only option since Charlotte would understand her pain.

"Seems like a thorn in your side, actually, right about now. It blows that he can't remember Halloween night." Charlotte said, letting Elizabeth take some time to eat her burger while it was still hot.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too. On Black Friday, he was always by my side, trying to talk to me sometimes. Charlie Bingley didn't want to take me or Crispy, who he'd picked up from the hotel Crispy is staying in, back to our respective places, so all four of us headed back to Bingley's house. I spent the rest of the night in Jane's company – and Charlie's when he said Crispy kicked him out. In the morning, Crispy and I went to go get milk from a corner store 'cause Caroline had drank it all or something; I needed it for my morning coffee. James was there getting an energy drink, and I guess Crispy came in after me or something from his story." Elizabeth paused, sipping on her drink again. Charlotte frowned slightly in concentration, thinking back to what James had said. So far, to her, it seemed like after he spent a bit of time with Elizabeth and got the bee from his bonnet, Darcy had a crush on Elizabeth but wasn't saying it.

"When we got back to Charlie Bingley's, he asked me out to an apology dinner, which was yesterday night at a steak place not too far from here. It was, in fact, really fun, and we agreed to be friends now. We have a bet going on now, and whoever loses cooks the other dinner." Elizabeth finished, digging into her burger hungrily. Charlotte chewed on a couple of her fries thoughtfully; it was obvious to her that Darcy was harboring feelings for Elizabeth, who was oblivious to them.

"What's the deal, then?" Charlotte inquired, knowing Elizabeth wouldn't have disclosed all this to her if it didn't mean anything.

"Well… he's Angel." Elizabeth whispered coyly, not meeting Charlotte's gaze. Charlotte, who had been there for Elizabeth after the "Angel Incident," as they liked to call it, was finally struck with the magnitude of the situation. At the hospital, Darcy's harsh words must have been devastating and disappointing, and now he was reverting back to the personality Elizabeth figured he'd have.

"Oh wow… what a coincidence. Your little boy in shining armor is now an Adonis in shining armor." Charlotte said after a minute; Elizabeth only nodded weakly. It almost seemed like an understatement to call Darcy "Adonis" after having seen most of his front and all of his back; the man was well built from what appeared to be hard work instead of hours in the gym.

"Don't get romantically involved with him. Feel him out first, see what he's really like; there's not rush. He's staying for a while, isn't he?" Charlotte decided after a bit. It was the safest route for Elizabeth if she didn't know what to make of Darcy yet, especially if he wouldn't be around in America for much longer. His Wikipedia page had said he only had one house, Pemberley, in Derbyshire, and Elizabeth had said he was living in a hotel currently. It didn't look like he was staying for a long time, but if Darcy was trying to get in Elizabeth's good graces, he was staying for long enough.

"I've been told all he wants to do is have sex with me then leave. What do you think?" Elizabeth questioned, half and half on the topic. Darcy didn't seem like all eh wanted as a one-night stand since he seemed sincere in wanting to be her friend, but he was a rich man. Rich men were notorious for having mistresses and bastard sons. Charlotte shrugged, pulling her phone back out and Googling Darcy again; she didn't share Elizabeth's misgivings but would look just in case. To her, it seemed much easier to get sex over with instead of going the long way around by becoming friends with emotional attachments.

"Well, he's clean. It appears like Darcy has had only three or so public girlfriends, and none in the past two years or so. Those girlfriends didn't last long, either, except for one who got publicly, and harshly, dumped. She was with him for almost a year." Charlotte said, having to go back to Darcy's Wikipedia page. She whistled lowly at the words Darcy supposedly said while he was breaking up with Brittney Parks; upon hearing her whistling, Elizabeth took Charlotte's phone to see for herself. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw slackened as she read.

"He really knows how to lay it on thick, huh?" Charlotte smiled when Elizabeth wordlessly handed her the phone back.

"I'm so glad he didn't say anything like that to Charlie Bingley about me in the hospital. God, I wonder what happened to make him say such things?" Elizabeth replied after a moment, still trying to soak in what Wikipedia said Darcy told his ex. She knew Darcy didn't like things like that, or so he'd implied, and hated dishonesty with a passion.

"Well, if he called her a gold-digging, blinkered, gagging slapper… which, to us, would be a gold-digging, near-sighted, fat, desperate slut… I'm guessing something pretty bad. That's his worst appearance in front of a crowd." Charlotte started giggling first, then Elizabeth. Neither knew what was so funny or why it was, but they just wouldn't stop laughing. Elizabeth found it very hard to see Darcy saying those things in front of a crowd, especially to a woman; if he could stand Caroline with out blowing up like that, his ex must have done something really, really horrible.

After having cleared up the Darcy problem, for the most part, Elizabeth and Charlotte spent the time catching up with each other over the rest of their burgers and dessert consisting of two slabs of homemade apple pie along with a scoop of Bluebell's vanilla bean ice cream. Charlotte kept her opinion of Darcy fancying Elizabeth to herself because she could envision Elizabeth falling for him, getting hurt, and him leaving all too clearly; Elizabeth kept to herself the time when Darcy had seen her panties and the vice versa occasion because she didn't want Charlotte to read anything into the accidents.

Both young women left the restaurant in a good mood, one with a new number to log into her contacts list on her phone. After Charlotte dropped Elizabeth off at the Gardiner's, Elizabeth checked her phone to see she'd received a text from Darcy.

"I forgot I'm staying in a hotel currently when we made the bet. Dick and I are looking for an apartment because, frankly, the hotel bill is getting expensive. IF you win, and only IF, would you mind waiting until we've found a nice flat to rent for dinner?" It read, complete with correct grammar. Elizabeth wondered if he normally texted like that or just did it because of the bet being fresh in his mind.

"Only IF I win? Please, Crispy, you and I both know I WILL win. And since I'm the gracious sort of person, yes, I can wait until you and Dick find an apartment to try your cooking skills. I hope it won't be poisonous." Elizabeth grinned at her reply, sending it off with a giggle. Since she was in the den with Connor and Noelle, the kids looked at her curiously, however, the TV soon caught their attention again at a particularly striking scene in their cartoon movie.

"Yes, IF you win, because you and I both know you WON'T, Kitten. Yes, yes, gracious you… when I win, will you be cooking at the Gardiners' place for me as well as them? Also, I learned form the best; unless you're allergic to something, it won't be the least bit poisonous." The reply came just a few minutes later. Elizabeth scoffed to herself, rolling her eyes. Arrogant jerk.

"I so will win, Crispy. It won't matter since you'll be losing, but since you asked, I'd see if the Gardiners would go out for a night. The kids are all picky eaters, and I'm sure your expensive taste buds don't match with theirs. Have you ever had a PB&J? Right, right, did you learn from Bobby Flay or something, rich boy?" Elizabeth sent back to him, waiting eagerly for his answer while watching the cartoon movie. It took her less than a second to see it was one of the Land Before Time movies the Gardiners owned.

"You will not, Kitten. I have had a PB&J, for your information; I grew up on the best ones in the world. Who's Bobby Flay? And, I'm not a boy; I'm a man. Seriously, though, are you allergic to anything? Just in case." Elizabeth couldn't help but snort in disbelief after reading the text. Who was Bobby Flay, indeed!

"Yes I will, Crispy. Who is this person, some posh British chef? I'm not falling for that 'who's Bobby Flay' thing. Yeah, right, a boy in man's clothing. :P No, I don't have any food allergies. Why? You scared I'm going to win?" Elizabeth answered, taking more interest in the movie. Little Foot was just meeting Ducky, meaning her favorite part, Spike's hatching, was coming up.

"No you won't, Kitten. She's my surrogate mother, Mrs. Reynolds; I hope you'll meet her one day. I was serious because I honestly don't know who this Bobby Flay person is. :P? No, I'm not scared, just wanting to make sure I've got everything covered should the 1/million thing happen. I don't want to accidentally poison you." Darcy's response made Elizabeth smile and warm fuzzies grow in her stomach. He seemed to actually care about her well being.

"I so will, Crispy. I'm surprised; I figured you grew up on five-star restaurant quality foods. Well, you have access to Google, don't you? Use it. :P is a smiley face – look at it sideways. Well, then, do you have any food allergies? It'd be bad for my 'good girl' reputation if I accidentally killed you." Elizabeth texted back with one eye on the TV. She didn't want to miss Spike's hatching.

"You so won't, Kitten. Well, her cooking should be five-star restaurant quality; I swear her food is the best in the world. I now know who Bobby Flay is, and I can care less. I'd be willing to bet Mrs. R can cook better than him. No, I don't, either, and I'm sure your 'good girl' reputation wouldn't be hampered. There are plenty of people who'd like to see me die. :P (Right?)" His text took a few minutes that time from Googling who Bobby Flay was. Elizabeth really couldn't believe someone like Darcy wouldn't know whom the famous chef was, but then again, it was Darcy. He didn't know what "working the corner" meant or what ":P" was, either.

"I so will, Crispy. I want to meet her now and try her cooking; then we'll see if her cooking is the best in the world. Aww, don't hate on Bobby Flay. Send Mrs. Reynolds to Iron Chef to face off against him, then! That's good. Pfft, yeah, right – aren't you an angel in the high society world? (Yes, that was right.)" Elizabeth answered back after witnessing Spike's adorable hatching. The three other Gardiner children joined her, Connor, and Noelle then to watch the movie; their parents weren't far behind them.

"You so won't, Kitten. Well, if you're ever in Derbyshire, you'll have to stop by Pemberley and tell her I sent you if I'm not there. I wasn't 'hating' on him! Mrs. R wouldn't appreciate that, and, besides, she's not a 'chef.' She's my housekeeper. It depends on who you talk to – the fathers of the daughters that want to shag me, their mothers, my competition, etc." Elizabeth almost missed his text, getting caught up in the movie. She didn't care if the Land Before Time was meant for kids; it was still one of her favorite films.

"I so will, Crispy. I don't reckon I'll ever be in Derbyshire, but if I ever am, I'll do just that. Yes, you were! So, let me get this straight: your surrogate mother, Mrs. Reynolds, is a five-star quality chef, but she's only your housekeeper? Oh, yeah, I'd guess it would matter who I asked. Caroline would hire an assassin or kill me herself if I made you kick the bucket, lol. (Lol means laugh/laughing out loud.)" It took a few minutes for Elizabeth to type her message up since she was half watching Little Foot and the gang, half watching her fingers fly over the phone keyboard.

"You so won't, Kitten. Well, just remember that if you ever are. No, I wasn't! Just because I don't care who Bobby Flay is doesn't mean I'm 'hating' on him. Yes, Mrs. Reynolds had been my housekeeper and surrogate mother since I was four. Ugh, don't make me think of Caroline and her antics, please. I get enough of her as it is. I've no doubt she would eventually get you killed if you murdered me, even on accident." Elizabeth read once she received the text. She chuckled at a quiet part, drawing the attention of the room unconsciously; she didn't pay them the slightest bit of attention as she wrote back.

"I so will, Crispy. Roger that. Suuure you weren't. Yes it does – in my book, anyways, just to annoy and disagree with you. Wow, that's a long time. She could share some 'interesting' stories with me about you, couldn't she? :D (Smiley face again.) Caroline wants in your pants, Crispy-boy – don't forget to use protection!"

"You so won't, Kitten. I'm going to ignore that part. Yes, Mrs. R could – could being the operative word. You don't say? I never knew!" Elizabeth burst out into laughter at the sarcastic bit at the end, catching her relatives' interest again.

"I so will, Crispy. Whatever you say. I'm sure she would if I asked nicely. Yeah, she does!" For the first time, Elizabeth couldn't concentrate on watching the Land Before Time movie, all because of Darcy's texts. She'd never had never enjoyed texting someone that much before.

"You so won't, Kitten. Yes, whatever I say. She would not, even if you asked nicely! Wow. She can have my pants if she wants in them; they're nothing special. :P" Once more, Elizabeth erupted into a peal of laughter, holding her sides for support. Bonnie crawled into her lap, picking up her phone.

"Kitten? Who's Kitten? Was goin' on?" Bonnie asked, inspecting the phone closely. Elizabeth squeaked, taking her phone back before Bonnie could do anything.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I'll leave now." Elizabeth said hurriedly, depositing Bonnie back onto the couch much to the girl's dismay and standing up.

"Noo! No, Izzy's got to stay wif us!" Bonnie cried, looking to her parents in desperation; they just shrugged.

"Izzy can do what she wants."

"Noooo!" Noelle joined her sister, hopping up onto the couch next to Bonnie.

"Okay, okay, y'all win! I'll stay!" Elizabeth sighed, sitting back down. Bonnie immediately situated herself back onto Elizabeth's lap, and Noelle snuggled into her side.

"Good grief, you two." Elizabeth mumbled, having a hard time typing with one hand since Noelle was hugging onto the other with all her might.

"LOL. Sorry, but my cousins want me to watch a movie with them. See you later." Elizabeth sent the text then shut her phone off, making the best of the situation by cuddling with her little cousins and finishing the Land Before Time with them.

**A/N**: _Sooo, yeah. :) I might not get a chapter out next week 'cause I'm going up to my grandparents' for the Fourth of July week. They haven't got a god computer and would be insulted if I took a USB and wrote the whole time, so it'll be a while before 8/9 comes out. Sorry guys! If I don't get 8 out before the fourth, Happy Independence Day!_

_~ Tobi_


	8. Promises

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't always disclaim, but when I do, I try to be funny and fail.  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Clarinetto14<span>: Thank you very much! :)  
><span>Cvtperez<span>: Thank you. Well, you'll just have to wait and find out, for both accounts! ;P I'm glad you liked the texting bit, too.  
><span>Pluxu<span>: Thank you! C:  
><span>Nuingarien<span>: You know who John Thornton is! :D You are amazing. Yes, she is one very lucky lady, lol.  
><span>Lena<span>: Thanks! :)

**- Promises -**

"Dick, let go of me! I'm not twenty anymore!" Darcy complained, attempting to escape the half nelson his cousin had pulled him into. Memories from when they were both young came when he spoke those words flooded Darcy's mind; he could clearly remember Richard's reaction to his announcing, quite smugly, he had a date to the charity dance over the winter holidays. That she was the girl Richard had wanted to ask out had only made her affirmation sweeter.

"Oh, but it's been nearly that long since you've gone on a date and admitted it!" Richard responded, yanking Darcy's head down even further into his chest to give Darcy a good, hard noogie. Their coworkers were staring for as long as they thought was allowed, clearly unused to the dramatics Richard frequently employed. To them, it was certainly a sight to see, and on top of that, the head honcho seemed to have a date, which they thought near impossible. Darcy hadn't smiled even once in the vicinity of his employees when he was in America; it was quite out of the question for them to imagine him getting cozy with a woman.

"It's _not_ a date, Dick!" Darcy shot back heatedly, giving Richard a hearty shove to yank his head back, albeit a bit painfully. Richard laughed at Darcy, reaching up to muss Darcy's hair even more.

"Sure it isn't. Bloody hell, mate, how many 'not dates' have you had? There was that first dinner, you've had a couple lunches, you've gone to a movie you normally wouldn't stomach, and now this! Oh, and don't get me started on the texting – I've seen your bill, Crispy!" He teased, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit. Richard was very exultant that his cousin was becoming fast friends with Elizabeth; Darcy hardly went a day without mentioning her. To those that heard him, the fact that Darcy was smitten was blatant; even Charles, who was very dense when it concerned romance, had keyed in on it. It had taken Darcy a bit of coaxing and persistence, but he'd wormed his way into Elizabeth's good graces; he'd even made as the last number on her speed dial.

"… So?" Darcy countered weakly after a few minutes, ears burning bright red. Knowing that he and Richard were being closely monitored, he nearly dragged Richard into his office, color seeping onto his cheeks; Richard only laughed more at Darcy's discomfort.

"So, you clearly fancy Lizzie, and she's warmed up to you now, right? When will you really ask her out? It's been, what, two weeks and you've seen her at least seven days out of the fourteen?" Richard inquired when he'd calmed down, growing serious. Although he thought Elizabeth was a good girl, from what little he'd seen of her, he could also easily see her turning on Darcy and hurting him. Richard wasn't keen on that idea, but it was always in the back of his mind, popping up when he didn't expect it. Growing up as they had, Richard had been more of Darcy's older brother rather than his cousin; in fact, Richard knew he was closer to Darcy than he was his own elder brother, Mason.

"Yes, I'm sure she has 'warmed up' to me, because she called me when Jane wasn't available to watch that new Victorian film with her. I'm going to wait a while longer yet because, as you said, it's only been two weeks regardless of how many times I've seen her. She's only called me that one time while I've initiated all other contact." Darcy shrugged, going behind his desk to the mini-fridge to find a bottle of brandy. Normally, it wasn't his wont to drink while on the clock, but with Richard there and a successful, if long, business meeting behind him with the rest of his afternoon clear, Darcy found an exception. He wouldn't drink much because he had to go to the apartment he and Richard shared cook dinner for Elizabeth since he'd lost their bet.

True to her word, Elizabeth had emailed him a copy of one of her essays, and, for the life of him, no matter how many times he went over it, Darcy couldn't find any grammatical or spelling errors. He'd found ways to branch out on subjects or to make a point a bit clearer, but those points didn't matter where their bet was concerned. Since Elizabeth didn't know Richard very well and because he was rather selfish, wanting her all to himself, Darcy had asked Richard to spend the night at their Aunt Catherine's condo, which had started this whole conversation. Darcy was quite used to the ribbings Richard gave him over Elizabeth, but he wasn't expecting Richard to be solemn in his recent inquiries. Richard, a naturally impatient man who grew even more so when members of the opposite sex were involved, wouldn't get Darcy's reasons for going the long way about becoming Elizabeth's significant other, even for just a little while.

Darcy took everything into consideration when thinking about dating Elizabeth. From what he gathered, Elizabeth's dating experience was poor as she'd not even gone to her high school's prom with a proper date; she'd gone stag with a couple girls who later ditched her for their boyfriends. Even if it could have been bad timing, Darcy had a feeling Elizabeth had never had a boyfriend, or if she'd had, it hadn't been a very long affair. On top of her inexperience, Elizabeth was also about eight years younger than him. In the long run, the span wasn't very large, considering how some married couples were over ten years apart, but in the early stages, those years were a considerable wall to climb, especially since Elizabeth was only twenty-one. In addition to all of that, they came from completely different backgrounds: Darcy was extremely well off while Elizabeth had been middle class or sometimes lower, considering how much she said her mother spent.

"Well, what's up? I need more than that to spend a night with Aunt Catty in a telly-less, bare room. You know how she is." Richard goaded, watching Darcy with curiosity until he saw the brandy bottle. The sight of it made him grin brightly.

"Yes, I know how she is." Darcy sighed, putting the bottle on his desk before bending down again to fetch two glasses. Their aunt was unbearable, always needing to be the center of attention. She had also somehow gotten the idea that Darcy would marry Anne, the stepdaughter she got in her second marriage to Matthew de Bourgh, so that was another thing she pressed when she saw her two nephews. Despite not actually being related, Darcy had been introduced to Anne as his cousin as a lad, and he'd always thought they were blood family until his early twenties; the idea of actually marrying Anne was incestuous and quite disturbing to him. Anne was a nice young woman and all, but Darcy was adamant against marrying her. The good thing about the situation was that Anne whole-heartedly agreed with him, saying he wasn't her type at all.

"Aunt Catty wants to see you, too, since we've cleared out her guest bedroom. She expects it, actually, since she's doing us a favor even though she doesn't understand why she is." Richard smirked slightly, accepting the glass of alcohol when Darcy offered him one after he'd filled it up. After they had gotten a lease on an apartment, Darcy and Richard has asked to borrow their aunt's furniture until they went back across the Atlantic instead of buying new furniture themselves; although Catherine had complied, she didn't know why they were adverse to spending money. The men had tried to convince her it was a stupid idea to buy new furniture for an apartment they'd soon not be in, but she wouldn't hear of it, saying they could afford it. She let them clear out her guest room anyways, except for the bed, so Richard and Darcy had ended up with a chair, a chest of drawers, a bedside table, a lamp, a TV stand, and a TV. Those items, along with a second set for Darcy, a couch, and a coffee table were the only things that filled their small apartment since it had come with all the kitchen appliances.

"Lord… that woman expects everything, doesn't she? Well, it'd be rude to not see her, since she _is_ lending us her furniture… though she's not likely to have any guests." Darcy sighed, sipping at his drink, already able to feel the headache he'd get from seeing his aunt. Richard snorted into his brandy, nodding in concurrence.

"Enough about Aunt Catty, now. Tell me more about you and Lizzie." Richard pressed, wanting more details. Darcy just shrugged, buying time by keeping his glass at his lips.

"What do you want to know? You're being too vague." Darcy sighed, having a sudden sense of déjà vu. Richard seemed to be quizzing him more frequently on his non-existent love life just because of his interest in Elizabeth.

"Have you snogged her yet?" Richard asked, rather bluntly, not expecting Darcy to do a spit take. Because of their close proximity, the liquid landed mostly on Richard's hair and face.

"This conversation is closed, _Barty_. In fact, I think I'll head out early, now." Darcy sneered, trying to cover up his embarrassment with ire. Richard was not the only stunned one when Darcy left, red faced and scowling, leaving the mess for Richard to clean up since it was his fault. Darcy made sure the woman appointed his temporary secretary knew he was done for the day before he departed, taking long, brisk strides to quickly reach the rental he and Richard shared. He didn't know exactly why Richard's words had set him off, but they had and what was done, was done. Darcy drove out of the parking garage without looking back, attempting to school his face back to normal instead of the red, alarmingly mortified expression he had.

Had he snogged Elizabeth yet? What a load of bullocks!

Darcy was in a state when he parked in the grocery store's parking lot, fairly violently shrugging off his suit jacket before yanking his tie off; after the tie was gone, he proceeded to unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt and roll up his sleeves. He looked every bit the imposing business man as he entered the store, consulting his memory for something easy he made well. Darcy had, as a teen, spent his weekends home from boarding school with Mrs. Reynolds, learning how she cooked. He'd never been an exemplary student, but she'd always eaten what he'd made, saying it was even better than anything she'd ever done. It had been a very touchy time then, for Darcy, but Mrs. Reynolds had been able to whittle away at him until he'd been able to speak again. The days spent toiling away in the kitchen had been more therapeutic than any session with a shrink for him.

Reminiscing about what he considered better times had let Darcy cool off from the froth he'd worked himself into, resulting in him being considerably calmer as he browsed the isles, looking for the ingredients he needed. He was able to find what he needed somewhat easily and was leaving the store by four thirty with an hour before Elizabeth's class let out. They had agreed that she'd ride the subway and then walk over to the complex to get to Darcy and Richard's apartment and that Darcy would drive her home. Placing the ingredients carefully into the passenger's seat, Darcy came up with what he considered a brilliant idea to keep Elizabeth in his company for longer. As he and Richard hadn't gotten a table to eat off of, they spent all of their nights on the couch to eat, watching the News or something on the telly.

Even though he'd be cutting it close, Darcy stopped by a Blockbuster on his way back to the apartment building. He spent longer than he should have perusing the racks, trying to find a movie that they'd both find at least interesting. Darcy eventually settled on the Sherlock Holmes film, thinking that if Elizabeth didn't fancy the DVD all too well that Iron Man (because Darcy couldn't remember the actor's name, only that he was also Iron Man) would keep her content; he was certain, though, that she'd like it. Elizabeth didn't seem to be the type of young woman that disliked action slash mystery movies, but all Darcy knew of her favorites was that they were all Period works. She'd enjoy that aspect of the movie, at any rate.

When he got back to the apartment, Darcy didn't even kick off his shoes or shave the five o'clock shadow from his cheeks; he went immediately into the little kitchen after dumping his jacket and tie onto the air mattress he slept on. Upon reaching the kitchen again, Darcy was confronted with the challenge of cooking a flawless meal.

- (Crappy break line) -

With secretive smiles, the message was conveyed across the room. Elizabeth could barely contain her excitement until her class let out; immediately, she ran over to Emma with a huge grin on her face.

"I take it you got accepted?" Elizabeth couldn't help but squeal, bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly. Emma Woodhouse, an enviously gorgeous girl who was also undeniably smart, nodded with a dazzling white smile. The girls hugged each other, causing a scene because of their screams.

"Oh my gosh, Lizzie, we have just _got_ to go shopping! Want to go out to celebrate tonight? I can't believe we got accepted together! This is just too awesome!" Emma cried once they'd separated, dancing from one foot to another. With their zeal, the girls shrieked and hugged again, bouncing around as one.

"When we go, yeah, but not before! Yeah, I d—um, how about we wait to celebrate until the weekend? We could have a party, kind of… you could bring George, I could bring Charlotte, Ana and Fred could come… that kind of thing." Elizabeth started to calm down, thinking it through. She didn't want Emma knowing about her going over to Darcy's for dinner since Emma would blow things out of proportion. Emma was exceptionally good at whatever she did… except her favorite past time, matchmaking. Elizabeth almost cringed, remembering the stories Emma had told her about the past matches she'd made that fell apart. Normally, Elizabeth would encourage the hope that, one day, Emma would make a good match, however, considering how many times she'd seriously screwed up on, Elizabeth wouldn't do anything of the sort.

"Yeah, that'd be nice… but it could be bigger, right? Like, inviting a few more friends each… we could hold it at my apartment!" Emma mused aloud, thinking of her friend, Harriet, and the Jane woman Elizabeth talked about sometimes. Emma lived in an apartment her father paid for just outside of campus instead of in a dorm because she'd begged to have a few more liberties after her freshman year living in the dorms; having always been served as a child, she wanted to try living by herself to become more independent. To her, Elizabeth's story of working to pay her own tuition was foreign, unimaginable since Emma's father was one of the biggest business tycoons from having invested when others scoffed when computers were first introduced.

"Sure, if you think your place can handle it." Elizabeth smiled, trying to surreptitiously look at her cell for the time. Her train left in fifteen minutes, and it'd take her almost that much time to get to the platform if she didn't leave soon. Plus, her backpack was still on the other side of the room where she'd abandoned it in favor of chatting with Emma!

"Girls, could you please clear out? My next class is starting soon." The professor called from in front of his white board, smiling slightly. He'd seen many of such occurrences happen from young girls and had grown accustomed to it.

"Sorry, Professor Hale. We'll go now." Emma apologized, walking with Elizabeth to fetch her bag before departing with her friend. She'd noticed Elizabeth checking the time and was curious as to why Elizabeth, who usually dawdled with her or Ana, would have somewhere to go.

"Do you want to hang out tonight to plan the party? We could order some killer Chinese take out." Emma inquired, inwardly figuring out a way to get Elizabeth to confess her plans.

"I'm busy, actually, Emma. I'm sorry. Maybe tomorrow?" Elizabeth replied, wondering if Ana had told Emma anything. Ana and Emma had grown up together, so there wasn't much that they didn't share. Whenever Elizabeth spent time with them, though, they never made her feel left out or like a third wheel.

"Have you finally gotten a boyfriend?" Emma could clearly picture Fred complaining about Elizabeth's "new friend" two weeks previous, but he'd never said the man's name. Ana had also seen the man, but she hadn't divulged his name to Emma, either. All Emma had on the mystery man was that he was older, probably around George's age, and polite. Emma was still trying to find out what Elizabeth's type was, since she knew roomfuls of single guys willing to go on a blind date, and had asked about his looks. As both Ana and Fred knew her plan, they hadn't said a word more about Elizabeth's mystery man.

"As in a guy that's a friend? I've loads of those." Elizabeth avoided the correct answer, feigning ignorance. Emma rolled her eyes, shoving Elizabeth lightly as they exited the Math building.

"You know what I mean!"

"Oh wow, look at the time! Gotta get goin', Emma, see you later!" Elizabeth grinned, looking at her watch-less wrist and dashing off, ignoring Emma's crowing that she was being terribly suspicious. Running to the stairwell that led down to the subway station, Elizabeth made a mental note to take advantage of the school's free gym area soon to work on the treadmill. She barely made it to her platform on time to catch the train because of the crowds milling about. In view of the time, Elizabeth berated herself for not thinking about the obvious rush hour that would be going on as people, fresh from their jobs, wanted to get home to their families. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to squeeze onto a car, holding onto a handle dangling from the ceiling when she couldn't find an open seat.

It being her first time on a subway train, Elizabeth had fun watching the chaos that ran about her; all the different people excited her significantly, so much so that she almost missed her stop. After leaving the car, Elizabeth quickly made her way out of the station and up to the bustling sidewalks of downtown New York.

Business people clad in suits pushed their way through the crowds like seasoned pros. Teenagers loitered about, chewing on gum and cussing frequently. More than once Elizabeth got turned around, and she had to regularly check the directions she'd written down to find her way. However, after sidestepping a grungy looking fellow with a creepy, lecherous leer, Elizabeth was confronted with a street name she didn't know. She'd gone over the way to Darcy's complex after exiting the subway station on Google Maps so she knew some streets should she take a wrong turn, but this one was completely new to her. Going back the way she'd come, Elizabeth saw she'd misread the name of a street since it was similar to the one she needed to go down.

"Phooey." Elizabeth mumbled, resorting to pulling out her cell and pressing the nine for Darcy's mobile. She hoped he knew the area better than she did… or else she was in trouble. Elizabeth started to get worried when the phone just rang and rang and rang, uninterrupted by Darcy answering. She could see the unkempt guy lingering near her, and with the Collins affair still fresh on her mind, Elizabeth wanted to avoid him.

"Darcy. Speak to me." His voice, slightly irritated and slightly winded, was like music to Elizabeth's ears as Darcy answered right before her call

"Crispy! Hey! Um… I'm kind of lost…" Elizabeth cast a glance over to where she'd last seen her shadow. He was still there, taking a long drag off a cigarette.

"Kitten? Erm, where are you? As in, what corner?" Darcy replied sounding a bit strained. In the background, Elizabeth could hear popping… or was it sizzling?

"I'm on the corner of Thornberry and Safari… I think I misread Thornberry for Thurnbary… (1)" Elizabeth commented, crossing the street to get away from her tail. Going back down the street she'd gone down to get to Thornberry, she found a name she recognized.

"I haven't the slightest idea where you are. Let me see if I can get on Google Maps…" Darcy said after a moment of racking his brain.

"I found my way, I think. Can you stay on the phone?" Elizabeth asked, wanting to look busy so less people would notice her. Looking back over her shoulder, she didn't see the dodgy man anymore, so she was somewhat placated.

"No, I mean, yes, I – _blast_ it! Bloody hell that hurts!" Darcy yelped, and sounds ensued that Elizabeth could only guess came from him dropping his phone, amongst other things. Elizabeth paused in her walking for a moment before continuing on; she couldn't do anything for him over the phone. Darcy kept on hissing English cover-ups for swear words over the running water sound Elizabeth heard, making her giggle. It was quite amusing to image a man like Darcy clamoring around a kitchen, spewing polite curses, tending to what she figured was a minor burn from touching something hot.

"Sorry, I buggered up and burnt my hand. What I was trying to say was that I can stay on the phone, but, if you want, I could go and collect you from Thornberry and Safari to make sure you got here safe and sound." Darcy said when he picked the cell back up. Elizabeth smiled as she waited for a green light to walk across the street, having found her way back onto the route she'd made.

"You're cute, you know. You can't find many guys that would do that on top of making dinner nowadays. But, actually, I'm back on track – went back the way I came. There was a creep hanging around, so I just wanted to—"

"Where are you now?" Darcy interrupted her.

"Um, waiting for the light on Berley and Derby… why?" Elizabeth mused, looking up at the street signs to be one hundred percent sure.

"I know that corner; I'll come and get you. Wait there." Darcy commanded, hanging up with out Elizabeth noticing.

"What? No! You just burnt yourself, and…. You hung up on me, didn't you?" Elizabeth exclaimed, checking her phone's screen when she couldn't hear anything from Darcy's end.

"You hung up on me! You asshole!" She scoffed when met with the home screen instead of a timer keeping track of how many minutes she was using. Crossing her arms angrily, Elizabeth pulled away from the zebra stripes to lean irately against the corner of the building behind her, tapping her foot irritably. Darcy hadn't given her any room to argue, the pretentious ass! It was charming that he was concerned about her, but he didn't have to come and meet her when she was fully capable of getting to his apartment by herself. Elizabeth had half a mind to finish her little journey to Darcy's apartment by herself, maybe meet him half way or something, but on the chance they didn't run into each other, she didn't want to worry him further.

"Men, I have decided, are chauvinistic pigs." Elizabeth texted to Charlotte, the only friend of hers that knew about her going over to Darcy's for dinner because of the bet.

"Ha ha rnt u funy. Enjoy him!" Charlotte replied, vexing Elizabeth even further.

"You're no help!" She sent back, putting on a mighty pout. Charlotte didn't bother sending a return message. About five more minutes passed before Darcy appeared across the street, standing out like a sore thumb because of his height and state of dress; he hadn't donned a jacket before leaving his apartment and looked like he was freezing. An endearing, dimpled grin split across his face when his eyes met Elizabeth's, and she was unable to stop the blood rushing to her cheeks, knowing the gin was for her. Darcy didn't help Elizabeth's embarrassment when he crossed the street, as soon it was safe, and pulled her to his chest tightly, protectively. He smelled like sausages, onions, and faintly of burnt flesh, and his chest felt incredibly warm to Elizabeth's face. She could feel something unnatural strapped beneath his left arm, though, perplexing her.

"The poxy bastard didn't do anything to you, did he? You're all right?" Darcy questioned, looking Elizabeth over, his hands resting on her arms. The bandage wrapped inadequately around his left hand felt abrasive against the smooth cotton of Elizabeth's jacket, and the tape holding it on his hand caught on her clothes. Taking that as a sign, Elizabeth seized advantage of Darcy bending over to her height to slap him upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" It didn't hurt physically, but Darcy could feel the blow to his pride as a gentleman. He didn't think he'd done something wrong, but Elizabeth blatantly thought differently. Darcy rubbed at the back of his head with his right hand, letting his left fall to his side; with the tape attached to Elizabeth's jacket, it was a bad move. The hastily wrapped bandages came undone to hand from Elizabeth's bicep, revealing the angrily red, slightly blistered skin of his hand.

"For being an idiot! I told you I'd found my way, and then you freak out after I said I called you because some creep was eyeing me. You didn't have to rush over here, especially after burning yourself! It still hurts, doesn't it?" Elizabeth cried, plucking the tape from her arm and pulling Darcy's hand up to her face. From his wince, she knew she was correct in guessing he hadn't put his hand under cold water long enough.

"But I thought… because of Collins… you…" Darcy trailed off, watching Elizabeth roll her eyes and huff at him.

"Men are _definitely_ chauvinistic pigs. Come on, you moron." Elizabeth sighed, meticulously wrapping Darcy's hand back up, taking care not to press too hard on the burn covering the whole inside of his hand. The bandage wasn't long enough to wrap around his fingers. Darcy just watched her with something akin to awe, ears quickly turning red as she huffed again, irritated, amber eyes flashing in the street lamp light. Elizabeth took his left wrist daintily in both her hands, leading him across the crosswalk when it was safe.

"No one has done that for me before." Darcy commented softly, mostly to himself, however, Elizabeth heard him and flushed darker.

"Well, no one's done what you just did for me, either. So, we're even, okay?" Elizabeth admitted, hoping he couldn't see her face.

"What do you mean?" Darcy asked curiously, enjoying the feeling of her hands wrapped around his wrist, tugging him forward every now and then. It was a bit awkward since Darcy's longer strides, should he take them, would overtake and collide with Elizabeth's shorter ones, so he had to stop moving occasionally to keep from doing so.

"Well, my mother never got me when I was lost. My sisters didn't look for me, either, and my dad was at work. He would've, otherwise, but since he wasn't around… I don't think my mother realized I could get lost. I've got a good sense of direction and had been going places by myself for a while then." Elizabeth clarified, becoming ill at ease speaking about it. Growing up in a small town, everyone knew her name, and everyone knew his or her way about the place. Elizabeth hadn't been an exception, knowing exactly where she was and where she was going by the time she was four. By the time she was eight, it wasn't uncommon for her to go off by herself when her mother went shopping, for groceries or clothes, and one time Fatina had taken her and her sisters to a big mall in a different town. Elizabeth had wandered off, as per usual, but for the first time, she hadn't known her way back. Fatina, Kathleen, nor Lydia had even thought to look for her and had actually been about to leave when the mall intercom had buzzed to life, asking them to go to the Macy's to pick Elizabeth up.

Elizabeth was surprised when Darcy stopped and pulled her back into his embrace, holding her firmly against his torso, enveloping her.

"I'll always come for you, Elizabeth. I promise." Darcy said to Elizabeth's hair, feeling that it was the best thing to do even though it might have been untoward and too forward. Elizabeth gave a small, sad smile.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." She whispered lowly. Darcy didn't hear over the din around them.

"Lead on, Kitten. Dinner is getting cold." He said after a minute of holding Elizabeth close. Darcy relished in the feeling of his arm across her clavicle and stomach, but he also wanted to impress her with his mediocre cooking skills. It wasn't every day Elizabeth would get to eat toad in the hole… actually, she probably hadn't even heard of it.

"Well, your hand needs to get cold. Well, colder." Elizabeth ordered, looking up at the cloudy sky; a cold wind whipped past them to prove her point. It was then Darcy noticed he'd left without putting on a jacket, too occupied with his desire to find Elizabeth before something happened to her; he was very relieved to have her lead him quickly back to his apartment complex, back into the heat. Once Darcy let them into the apartment, Elizabeth asked him where the bathroom was located before hauling him into it with her.

Darcy endured all Elizabeth's muttering about him being a moron, a typical male, an ass, and all the synonyms of each as she unwrapped his hand and placed it beneath the stream of cold water coming from the sink's faucet. He listened to her berate him (and men in general) for their pig-headed male egos as she looked around for aloe vera gel, not listening to him when he told her where she could find it; for once, Darcy was glad for Richard's tendency to easily sunburn on his hands and face. Darcy smiled through Elizabeth's complaints about men with what she dubbed "knight in shining armor syndrome" while she applied the gel before rewrapping his whole hand with bandages, which she was unexpectedly good at.

"Does that feel too tight? I wouldn't try bending your fingers much." Elizabeth said upon completing her task, finally looking up from Darcy's hand to his face. The content, tender expression on his face made her blush and look away. For a guy who claimed to want to be just friends, he was pretty bad at being "just friends."

"It feels much better now. Thank you, Kitten. Might I ask why you're so adept at wrapping hands?" Darcy inquired, letting his curiosity get the best of him. While he had to bandage up extremities before, he'd never done as well as Elizabeth had with his hand.

"My mother was a nurse and showed us – my sisters and me, that is – how to do it. I always had to patch up my own injuries as a kid since my younger sisters… Kathleen faints at the sight of blood, and Lydia would have been too young for a time. She can't be bothered with much, anyways. As they say, practice makes perfect." Elizabeth shrugged, too flustered to say or do much more. When she'd been focused on helping Darcy with his hand, she hadn't noticed how cramped the bathroom was. It wasn't undersized under normal circumstances, but with a guy as big as Darcy, everything became smaller.

"How'd you get your whole hand, anyways?" Elizabeth questioned, squeezing past Darcy to inspect the apartment she'd blown off, originally. To say it was sparsely furnished would be an understatement. The den looked huge since there was only a couch, tiny coffee table, and a TV on a stand in it. Nothing cluttered the floor, the walls were bare, and the only things on the coffee table were two odd little wooden box things, one with the top of a beer can peeking out of the top, the TV remote, and a TV guide.

"I forgot the oven mitt was on my right hand, not my left, and tried taking the pan from the oven. Not one of my brightest moments, I assure you." Darcy joked, going into the little kitchen to plate the dinner he'd prepared.

"I hope you don't mind having toad in the hole." Darcy said, cutting the toad in the hole into four squares, putting two on the dinner plates he'd retrieved before Elizabeth had rung him earlier.

"Don't mind having _what_?" Elizabeth asked, joining Darcy in the kitchen as he spooned the thick gravy over the slices. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it; it looked like sausages in some sort of bread or something. Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth noticed a light pink "Kiss the Cook" apron.

"Toad in the hole. Mrs. Reynolds makes it better than I do, but it's really simple to make and a classic. It's got bangers – sausages, in a batter made with thyme and mustard power. The gravy has got stock in it with onions." Darcy explained, letting Elizabeth take her plate only because he couldn't carry both plates in one hand. He led her to the couch, placing his plate on the coffee table.

"What would you like to drink, Kitten? We've got beer, wine, brandy, fizzy drinks, orange juice, and a working faucet." Darcy listed off the beverages he and Richard had store in the fridge, going back into the kitchen; he got down a glass for himself, filling it with water while Elizabeth just stared at him.

"Er, do you have a Coke?" She asked after he'd come back into the den, placing his drink in the empty wooden box thing on the coffee table.

"Ah, yes, that would be a fizzy drink. Sorry. If you were wondering, Dick and I eat dinner out here and like to put our feet on the table after being folded up beneath desks all day; I made these wee boxes to hold drinks in so it's not easy to knock them onto the carpet. It's worked… mostly." Darcy told Elizabeth, motioning to a segment of the carpet that was slightly discolored with his bandages hand while grabbing the beer can from the second wooden drink holder with his other.

"We found out how to clean carpets a bit too late, as you can see. I'm sorry if you would have preferred to eat at a table; since Dick and I aren't staying for long in America, we thought it best not to buy much furniture that we'd have nothing to do with once we go back to England." Darcy further explained, dropping the almost empty beer can into the trashcan in the kitchen, retrieving a Coke can for Elizabeth from the fridge. She declined a glass when he asked if she'd like one.

"Do you want to change or something?" Elizabeth questioned, eyeing Darcy up as he walked back to hear, holding a freshly opened Coke can. Darcy looked down at his attire and nodded slowly.

"Yes. While I change, you can heat up your plate if you'd like; I'd suggest a minute and a half on high. If you don't want to do that, you can turn on the telly and DVD player; I rented out Sherlock Holmes today." He said, handing Elizabeth her Coke. She thanked Darcy as he departed before turning to the dinner he'd prepared for her. It was unlike anything she'd ever eaten before. Elizabeth turned on the television and DVD player and then went into the kitchen to warm up her cold plate, wondering how it would taste. It didn't sound too weird, but one should never judge a book by its cover.

Elizabeth settled down back into the couch with the newly warmed plate, waiting for Darcy before digging in; instead, she watched the previews roll on the TV. Darcy shuffled back into the room, clad in a plain white t-shirt, basketball shorts, and black athletic socks that reached up to his mid-calf; he all but collapsed into the couch, long limbs askew for a minute before he stretched his left arm over the top of the couch and his legs over the poor coffee table. Because of the way he and Richard had arranged the couch in proximity to the TV, he could easily reach the buttons for the DVD player with his toes should he feel especially lazy. Elizabeth stifled her laughter, looking away from him; Darcy looked way too different than his norm for her not to giggle. She'd never pictured him as the lethargic type, either, but the proof was right before her eyes as he hit the "Select" button on the DVD player with his big toe to start to movie. At that point, Elizabeth lost it, not trying to hide her laughter anymore.

"You're just jealous your legs are too short." Darcy pouted at her, pulling his dinner plate into his lap, beginning to eat it cold.

"Pssh, they're not too short. Look!" Elizabeth rolled her eyes playfully at him like he was just another stupid boy, shoving her plate onto the middle cushion neither of them had taken; she stood up, went around the coffee table, and pressed the pause button with her toe.

"That's bullocks. Sit right here and do it. Can't, can you?" Darcy smirked up at her challengingly, oblivious to the invitation he was giving out.

"No, I can't, 'cause you're sitting there." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at him; Darcy's ears turned bright red in return.

"Ah, well, yeah…" Darcy stammered. He was used to seeing a girl sit in a boy's lap, friend or more, at the drop of a hat, but he nor Elizabeth were like that. He didn't fancy it happening to him, and he was sure, with Elizabeth's limited experience, that she'd be uncomfortable doing so.

"Try your toad in the hole. It's not as wonky as the name, I promise." Darcy said, trying to get the attention off of him.

"I sure hope not, bub." Elizabeth snorted, going back to the end of the couch she'd claimed, curling up in the corner. Because of their talking, they'd missed the first few minutes of Sherlock Holmes, so Darcy used his toes to rewind it to Elizabeth's entertainment. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight, getting her a mock glare from Darcy and a waggling finger.

"You know, I don't know what to make of you, Crispy. One minute, you're polite and aloof, the next you're an ass, and then you switch again to this carefree sorta guy." Eizabeth commented before taking a tentative bite of what looked like sausages in cake to her. The edges were slightly burnt, but otherwise it tasted quite nice.

"Depends on where you catch me. In a large crowd of people I don't know, you'll find me in the best corner, people-watching. Charles says I'm sulking, but I'm not. If Caroline is near… well, let's just say I'll do my best to leave a bad impression. If I'm comfortable with someone, you'll get this." Darcy replied noncommittally. He'd been through conversations similar to this before, with the people he now considered his nearest and dearest, like Charles and Leslie.

"I can get that, in a way. If you catch me in a classroom, I'm the same way. I'm always that weird girl in the corner, giggling at nothing." Elizabeth flashed a smile across to Darcy, not really paying attention to the movie. She really wanted to trust him, but something was holding her back. Darcy just seemed too good to be true. Other than his misanthropic behavior surrounded by people he didn't know and the spiel he'd given to Charles about her in the hospital, he seemed to have no faults, and that always meant he was hiding something big. There was also Amelia's story from he ex, even though it seemed like a bunch of bull to get sympathy from girls.

"Oh, really? I'm sure it wasn't 'nothing', Kitten. Did you have a book beneath your desk? Some Charlotte Bronte angst? I'm afraid that she's the only romantic Period writer I can think of at the moment." Darcy teased, waggling his eyebrows at Elizabeth. She laughed again at the ridiculous sight, shaking her head.

"No, not all the time! I watched the kids in my class and could tell all the drama going on. They were fools, the whole bunch of them; all they cared about was the boyfriend/girlfriend crap and how they looked. That just made it funnier since, like I've told you, it was a small town. Everybody knew everything, including their parents." Elizabeth snickered, remembering at how the girls fussed and the boys pretended not to care. If someone kissed someone, the whole town would know by the end of the school week, depending on the day; God help those poor souls that thought they were secretive and could screw each other without at least one other person finding out.

"Oh _no_. That sounds like the boarding school I went to. If you had long weekends home, your business was spread because all the other lads that didn't go home, friends included, were green with envy. I felt bad for those who got bullied severely." Darcy cackled, throwing his head back with delight in imagining the inanities of being a teenager again. He'd never really experience much of the silliness, secluding himself like he had, but he'd observed it all with a keen eye just as Elizabeth had. Darcy smiled over at Elizabeth to share a laugh, the movie forgotten for the moment.

Darcy had never thought he'd find the perfect girl for himself, his "other half," but he figured he was pretty damn close with the one sitting just a couch cushion away.

**A/N**: _(1) Obviously (or, at least, I hope it is), these are fake streets – all used in this chapter were. Anyone reminded of anything from them? ;P_

_I'm so sorry, guys, for not updating for the past fortnight! I'd forgotten that Wimbledon, one of the biggest professional tennis tournaments, began after posting chapter seven, and with twelve hours of tennis to watch every day, I didn't have time to write. Then, like I said, I spent a week at my grandparents' house for the Fourth. I hope y'all enjoyed your Independence Day. :) Speaking of posting, if y'all watchers got confused when you got the email about "chapter eight," I'm sorry; I realized I'd renamed Mr. Bennet in chapter six and corrected it before anyone else noticed. Also, I think I might get chapter nine out this weekend, considering it's early in the week right now._

_~ Tobi_


	9. Elementary, My Dear Watson

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: It is a truth universally acknowledged that I am not Jane Austen.  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Guest<span>: We fans have got to keep up with out sports. Who needs sleep, lol? ;)  
><span>Clarinetto14<span>: Thank you! :D  
><span>Pluxu<span>: I'm glad you noticed that, lol. Thank you! C:  
><span>Calanmire424<span>: Aw, thank you. :) Yes! You win a dozen cyber cookies.  
><span>Lena<span>: Thank you! :3

**- Elementary, My Dear Watson -**

"Charles, where is Darcy? I haven't been able to contact him recently." Caroline asked her twin. Charles gave her a nervous smile across the dinner table, his fork halfway to his mouth. He knew exactly what Darcy had been of late, and he also knew Caroline would give the world's biggest hissy fit if she found out. The only snag was that Charles was a terrible liar; he even worse at it than Darcy.

"Well, he is an important guy, Carrie. I dunno what he does all the time." Charles said, shrugging. Neither sentence was a lie, so he thought he was in the all clear. Caroline usually let him off at that, but then again, every other time Caroline had asked him that, Darcy had been across the ocean.

"But he's here for you, isn't he? I don't think Darcy has been around for a week, at least!" Caroline scowled, causing Charles to flinch. From his behavior, she knew he was on tenterhooks and knew why Darcy hadn't been around; she also figured that she would not particularly enjoy the truth. However, Caroline was prepared to take it to build around since nothing was going to get in her way of securing that heirloom diamond ring on her finger.

"If Darcy is leaving and doesn't want to sadden us by departing, we should just throw him a party!" Caroline smiled, adding, "And Richard, too, of course," as an afterthought. Inwardly she cringed, though, because she knew how smashed Richard usually got at parties. The poor man didn't believe anyone who told him he was a lightweight, and he went out to prove them wrong if they said anything akin to it.

"He's, um, he's here to the New Years, at least, Carrie, you know that. Darce has just been, uh… hanging out. Chillin'." Charles shrugged, giving Jane a pleading look to help him out. To him, anything would be better than where this conversation was going; Charles would have even welcomed Jane and Caroline talking about lingerie!

"Excellent! But where has he been, then, Charles?" Caroline pouted, jutting out her out as she gave her brother her best puppy dog look. On a face not as angular as Caroline's, it would have been cute, however, with Caroline's bone structure, it looked horrendous. There was a reason she could only pull of the "sexy" look after the baby fat had left Caroline's face.

"He's been, eh, working…" Charles struggled to find a truthful answer that would satisfy his determined twin, flushing horribly. Jane was also at a real loss to tell Caroline since there wasn't much more that Caroline cared about, especially if she was a dog hot on the trail.

"He's been seeing someone, Carrie." Jane said after Charles gulped audibly. He hadn't told her specifics, only that Darcy was going out with a young woman; she had no idea she'd been wrong in taking "going out" as "dating" instead of literally just "going out."

Because of their red hair, Charles and Caroline had never looked good in red clothes; the same went for red wine dripping from Charles' already ruddy face. Red just didn't go with him at all.

"_What_? Since _when_?" Caroline shrieked, placing down her wine glass with more force than needed; some wine sloshed onto the tablecloth. Furiously, Caroline snatched her napkin up from the table to dab at her lips; her foot began tapping incessantly as she waited for an answer from someone. She couldn't believe Darcy could have found someone better than her since all he did was work and hide from society at parties! There was no way he'd been able to find someone!

"Um, well… not exactly… eh…" Charles pulled at his collar nervously, trying to diffuse the situation. He sneezed when some wine went up his nose and decided to go wash up in the kitchen sink; in addition to cleaning his face, Charles was going to think over how to tell Caroline that Darcy wasn't dating Elizabeth… just going out to get her trust him _then_ date her.

"Gee whillikers, I need something stronger than wine." Charles groaned, bending over the sink before turning on the tap. As the water ran through his hair onto his face, he realized he also needed time away from Darcy if he was saying outdated things like he just had.

"Who is he seeing, exactly?"

Charles heard Caroline's accusatory voice and sighed. Never mind that Caroline was being a brat, she just had to treat Jane badly, didn't she? Charles could stand her treating him badly since he had to love her (but not necessarily like her), but nothing pushed his buttons more than Caroline being intentionally nasty to Jane. Jane, sweet Jane, never seemed to get Caroline was a real bitch whenever Darcy was the subject; all Jane ever figured was that Caroline was the clingy, jealous type (and understatement if there ever was) and wanted Darcy back. Charles didn't know if Caroline had actually been able to delude herself that she'd actually dated Darcy or was just lying to all women she met to say, "Hands off, I've been there and he's mine." Either way wasn't good.

"Charlie hasn't told me."

Charles' back went rigid when Jane said that traitorous sentence. She hadn't really cared that Darcy was hanging out with someone new! Not that she would have liked that it was Elizabeth…

"CHARLES!" Caroline shrieked, pounding her first on the dinner table. Charles accepted his fate and grabbed the hand towel, turning off the water as he dried his face; he placed the towel around his shoulders before going out to the dining room to face his irate twin.

"Yes, Carrie?" Charles asked, trying to give her a pleasant grin; it turned out more like a grimace, however.

"It's that country hussy Eliza Bennet, isn't it?" Caroline sneered, shocking both her dinner companions. Jane turned to Charles, shock clearly apparent on her face. With both women looking at him, one with wide eyes and the other with dangerously narrowed ones, Charles finally knew what a trapped animal felt like. It wasn't one bit a pleasant feeling.

"Um, so, coffee anyone?"

"_CHARLES!_"

- (Crappy break line) -

"Did you ever get bullied? What was boarding school like for you?" Elizabeth asked, interested in Darcy's past. It had to be mottled with bad memories, but she wanted to know everything about him. She was hungry for answers, trying to figure out the enigma that was Fitzwilliam Darcy.

"I'll tell you my school history if you tell me yours. Before you say something like, 'I came from a small town, so there isn't much to tell,' I can assure you there are probably many hilarious stories you think are insignificant but aren't, not really. Like what you just said – about mums and dads finding about their kids'… eh… promiscuous deeds. There has to be at least one funny tale of a time when someone got caught." Darcy smirked at Elizabeth, ears growing warm again. He'd been brought up with money and sex as vulgar topics, and though he had both, he still didn't fancy talking about either. Richard had ribbed him numerous times for becoming so flustered at topics no one paid heed to anymore, but Darcy couldn't help it.

"Fine, fine. But I asked you first, Crispy!" Elizabeth rolled her eyes although what Darcy said was true. She had quite a number of stories she could tell about times when parents had found out about their kids having sex, smoking nicotine or worse, and other things that made parents freak out if they cared about their kids. Elizabeth frowned slightly, wondering if her mother and father got on to Kathleen and Lydia for their asinine antics. Ever since they'd entered high school, Kathleen and Lydia had dipped a toe into everything from ecstasy to booze, but not once had Fatina or Wayne done anything. Sure, they had "grounded" the girls, but since Wayne was quite out of touch with technology and Fatina couldn't deny her little Lydia, and subsequently Kathleen, anything, the grounding sentences had never been paid sufficiently.

"I didn't originally go to a boarding school… I had gone to a public school in Derbyshire, but after my folks died and my Aunt Catty—Catherine, Aunt Catherine got custody of me, she sent me to boarding school. In a way, I was glad since I didn't have to see the familiar faces of friends, teachers, and townsfolk cloud with pity." Darcy paused, eyes glazing over. What a summer that had been! He'd gone from the brightest, most popular boy in school to a nobody who was scorned with one fell swoop. A melancholy smile lit up Darcy's face as the memories he pushed back threatened to spill over the edge.

"It was an all boys school, and they got pretty vicious sometimes. My roommate was all right, though; he didn't seem to remember I existed sometimes. It was only my first two years there that I got bullied, but it was never real severe. No one ever did anything too physical to me; the worst had to have been when they…" It was almost funny now to Darcy, and his right hand immediately went to his stomach. Elizabeth looked at him with quirked eyebrows, giving him the curious expression he adored. Darcy ran his teeth over his lower lip, laughing slightly as pink invaded his cheeks.

"You've seen my chest, right? I was an early bloomer; I went from five foot two to six feet even in a couple of months, and along with the height came a portion of what's currently growing now. In my second year when I was fifteen, some lads thought it'd be a brilliant Christmas present to give me a shave with duct tape when I was sleeping. That was the instance where they got in a heap of trouble, so after that I was left well alone." Darcy could remember waking up to their raucous laughter that soon turned to screams. One boy didn't like the sight of blood, and suddenly the whole lot of them had realized what a mistake their prank was.

Elizabeth's eyes were wide in astounded horror when he stopped. She was filled with gratitude that she'd never gone to an away school when kids were bullies. When Darcy noticed her expression, he reached over and mussed her hair, similar to what Richard did to him.

"Ah, don't worry about me, that was years ago. My Aunt Catt—Catherine got on to the headmaster after that. All they needed was something drastic before they really cracked down on the bullying. Most of the time they just played head games with me, telling me I wasn't anyone just because my daddy had been. Those boys helped me become the man I am today, so I don't want to change a thing. Anyways, they liked me enough the next year when I started participating in school sports." Darcy tried to console her, knowing he shouldn't have told Elizabeth. He didn't want pity from anyone, especially not her; he watched her head fall, causing him to question if she was more disturbed by the story than he'd initially thought.

"Those little bastards! God, I want to wring their necks! You should've remembered their names and faces to plot revenge, Crispy, honestly!" Elizabeth exclaimed, looking up with a fire in her eyes. Darcy blinked a few times before he erupted into deep belly laughs, head thrown back with mirth. Elizabeth really wasn't like anyone he'd ever met before.

"Hey, tubby, what's so funny? Tell me!" Elizabeth put her mostly cleared plate onto the coffee table and got to all fours on the couch to be nearer to Darcy. She prodded him in the ribs sharply, but all he did was laugh harder in addition to flinching away. Grinning, Elizabeth transferred her weight to her legs to test out her theory about Darcy; she was proven correct when he yelped as her deft fingers tickled him mercilessly.

"Stop! Oi, you little – I'm wounded!" Darcy attempted to pry Elizabeth's skillful hands away from his ribs, but as he could only use one useful hand, he was unsuccessful.

"That's a bunch of bull! You did that to yourself 'cause you're a stupid boy!" Elizabeth teased, shrieking with laughter when Darcy wrapped his left arm around her middle, trying to secure both her wandering hands with only his right hand.

- (Crappy break line) -

"You have some explaining to do, Charles. No distractions." Caroline said, glaring daggers at her twin. Jane also wanted him to explain, and even though she didn't like Darcy herself, she wasn't going to rain on Elizabeth's parade if Elizabeth truly liked Darcy. However, from the last she'd heard, Elizabeth had found Darcy appallingly boorish.

"Yes, well… um…" Charles pulled at his collar again, taking a shaky seat into his deserted chair. He wasn't quite sure what to say, really, that wouldn't bring Caroline's (and, later, Darcy's) wrath onto him; he didn't think she'd ever heard of not shooting the messenger.

"Y'see… Darcy isn't _dating_ Lizzie, he's just going out with her - like friends. They've had a couple of lunch d—meetings, and I know she called him over to watch that movie you couldn't see with her, Jane. And, uh, he took her out to dinner… to apologize for his words. I think you heard them, too, Jane." Charles explained, looking mostly at Jane though his words were almost one hundred percent directed at Caroline. He didn't want to see what shades of color Caroline's face would turn since they both knew this behavior was unusual for Darcy. Darcy generally let people slander him because he appeared rude, not caring, but this time, he _had_ to correct it. Even though Caroline hadn't seen Darcy and Elizabeth together at all since Halloween, she wasn't stupid.

A light bulb went off in Caroline's mind when she glanced over at Jane. Jane didn't enjoy Darcy's company, so Jane didn't know how Darcy normally was and was already predisposed to dislike him since Charles always went to him for help. Caroline knew Jane thought Darcy was a man who controlled part of Charles, and if she'd heard Darcy say horrible things about Elizabeth… The heroine, Caroline knew, always got the hero in the end, and she was adamant to get what she deemed as her happily ever after. Some heroines had to go a bit dark, after all.

"Oh. So _that's_ what he's doing." Caroline feigned relief, injecting her voice with false understanding. She didn't really know what Darcy was planning, but if Jane, who was easy to manipulate, thought she did, it could be quite simple to get Elizabeth away from Darcy for good.

"I'm going to go watch Desperate Housewives now. Thanks, Charlie, for enlightening me." Caroline gave Charles a fake smile, deceiving both Jane and Charles. Charles thought Caroline was letting the subject drop to harass Darcy, and maybe Richard, later while Jane had fallen hook, line, and sinker for Caroline's plot; Jane wanted to know what Caroline meant by her words. Jane helped Charles put the dirty dishes in the kitchen for the maid to clean later then told him she was going to join Caroline in her room to watch TV.

"Hello, Jane. I wasn't expecting you." Caroline lied when Jane entered her room, closing and locking the door behind her.

"I know I've told you I don't think Desperate Housewives is a good show, but I wanted to talk to you. Could you pause this for a second?" Jane asked kindly, joining Caroline on the plush bed. Caroline nodded, plucking the remote from her bedside table and pausing her show, facing Jane afterwards in mock seriousness.

"What was it you wanted to talk about? I figured you and Charles would be together tonight. Isn't The Mentalist on tonight?" Caroline inquired, clueless as to if the television show was on or not or if Charles and Jane had planned on watching TV together; she just needed a conversation starter to get the ball rolling.

"No, it's not – tomorrow, though, and Charlemange and I hadn't really planned anything, you needn't worry. I just wanted to ask you what you meant earlier, about Darcy, if I may." Jane almost mumbled, fiddling nervously with her fingers. She just wanted what was best for her newfound friend, and if Darcy wasn't, which she didn't doubt, then she felt that Elizabeth should know.

"Oh, it's just Darcy does that quite a bit. You know how the 'bad boy' attitude is hot now? Well, he figures he can come across as a catch if he can show he's got the balls to apologize. I'm not saying whatever you and Eliza heard was said on purpose, because he wouldn't have known you were there, but he probably thinks Eliza is a good way to pass the time while he's here. Darcy has a past of loving them and leaving them, if you catch my drift." Caroline explained nonchalantly, trying to put a grimace on her face while all she wanted to do was grin at her success. Jane was really just too gullible!

"Wh-what do you mean…?" Jane whispered, eyes widening. She hadn't thought Darcy was that bad of a fellow, just that he was arrogant and domineering. A chill passed down her spine at the potential emotional danger Elizabeth was in.

"Well, you know that cliché rich man playboy thing? Darcy fits it to a T. I'm waiting for him to settle down, really, because he's a fine catch otherwise. He's hurt even me before, but I have the heart to forgive him. I love him and will accept his one fault." Caroline sighed, pouting slightly to show her "disappointment" in Darcy's "poor decisions."

"Oh. Thank you for telling me, Caroline; I really appreciate it." Jane said desolately, head drooping, not unlike a sad puppy.

"I bet you do." Caroline grinned maliciously after Jane had departed, hitting the play button to resume watching her show.

- (Crappy break line) -

"You know, you're pretty amazing." Darcy said, smiling down at Elizabeth. He'd captured her after a bit of a struggle, and now he held both her wrists captive in his right hand above her head stationed comfortably in his lap. A becoming blush spread across Elizabeth's cheeks, and she didn't meet his eyes.

"Why is that? I thought I was not to be more than an acquaintance to you and wasn't your type." She asked impishly, wanting the conversation to be diverted. Elizabeth had been trying very hard not to fall for the man who claimed he wanted to be "just friends" with her, but he was making it very, _very_ hard for her. Girls and guys that were "just friends" didn't hang out every day, watch movies together, or cook for one another because of bets.

… Okay, they did. But they didn't flirt, which Darcy definitely did! And they most certainly didn't use nicknames like "Kitten"!

"I'm an arse with his foot in his mouth, Kitten." Darcy sighed, shaking his head. It amused Elizabeth, from this new angle, to watch his curls and waves bounce around; she'd be very disappointed, indeed, were he ever to cut it.

"And to answer your question: you're the first person I've met that hasn't pitied me if they heard that story. You looked adorable all fired up like that, and I just had to laugh at you." He grinned at her, complete with his set of dimples. Elizabeth noticed the laughter lines creasing around his eyes for the first time.

"Well, I feel bad for you, yeah, but… you're here now, right, as a good man who is actually _thanking_ those berks for what they did to you. I'm not going to pity you, Crispy. You're stronger than that." She smiled hesitantly up at him, locking gazes with him. Elizabeth was perfectly capable of keeping her eyes on Darcy's until he started to lean forward, his own eyes settling intently a jot lower than her eyes. Her heart started hammering against her ribs in anticipation, and Elizabeth let her own gaze travel south before closing her eyes, the image of Darcy's slightly parted, barely puckered lips burned into her memory.

BANG!

Startled by the unexpected loud gunshots in the movie, both Darcy and Elizabeth jumped; Elizabeth fell out of Darcy's lap to the floor because he's removed his legs from the coffee table to sit normally during their tickle fight. Her arms were painfully yanked upwards accidentally by Darcy's suddenly bruising grip on both her wrists, and a soft cry was ripped form her lips automatically, whether from surprise, pain, or a mixture of both, Elizabeth didn't know. As soon as the sound registered in Darcy's mind, he released Elizabeth's wrists.

"Kitten, I am so sorry! Are you all right?" It seemed like déjà vu to Darcy as he leaned over to look down at Elizabeth sandwiched between his calves and the coffee table. Elizabeth nodded, rubbing her shoulders simultaneously; gazing upwards, she tried to find something to sidetrack Darcy from the pain he'd caused her. She didn't blame him and didn't want him to berate himself, as she knew he would.

"Is your leg hair curly?" Elizabeth questioned him, unable to miss the dark, curly hair running down the legs right in front of her eyes. She chewed on her lower lip, struggling to hold in her laughter.

"… _What_?" Darcy was incredulous. His ears burned when Elizabeth fingered some of his leg hair and started giggling.

"Your leg hair is curly!" Elizabeth snorted, inspecting it closely. Darcy's eyebrows rose nearly into his hairline; it was just a night of firsts for him, he supposed.

"You are an odd duck, Elizabeth Bennet." Darcy said after a moment, unable to say anything else. His comment was met with a brilliant smile.

"Thank you, Crispy." Elizabeth's gratitude was genuine. She sat up and rejoined Darcy on the couch once more, however, she went back to her side of the couch to keep a distance. No matter how inviting Darcy was, Elizabeth didn't want to get hurt by him; Darcy accepted the distance silently with a bit of displeasure. It hadn't been his intention to kiss her this early on, but they had been having a _moment_, he knew it. He was also aware of how much of a girl he was thinking like, making his eye twitch slightly.

"Hey, is your arm hair curly, too?" Elizabeth started to reach for the arm nearest to her, snickering slightly, before Darcy pulled it away,

"I think it's your time to hold up your end of the bargain." He pouted at her, not sure if he was keen on where Elizabeth was going with her inquiries. Perhaps then she'd want to inspect his torso, perhaps not. Darcy didn't know if he'd be disappointed or thankful if she didn't, and if she did, he wasn't quite sure how to act. Instead of going into that rat's nest, he took the trouble-free way out.

"You want to hear about my laid back, care free school days after what you've just rehashed for me?" Elizabeth asked, wanting to stall or avoid the topic completely. It wasn't like it was a particularly happy time for her, but then again, Darcy had told her some of his own experiences.

"You were bullied pretty badly, then?" Darcy hazarded a guess that was spot on. Elizabeth nodded, once more not meeting his imploring silver eyes; she didn't want to tell him just yet that the harassment she was put through hadn't all been kids at school. Fatina, unable to find fault in her dear baby girl, believed only Lydia. Whenever something happened, it was convenient for Lydia to blame Elizabeth since Elizabeth had been told to watch her; with Wayne working (and quite possibly avoiding his wife sometimes), no one was there to stick up for Elizabeth. Kathleen had, at first, teamed up with her older sister to try to convey to their mother that Lydia was the "bad girl," but she soon found it a lot simpler to just go with the flow. They couldn't win, and, anyways, Lydia was only ten months younger than Kathleen, which was much closer than the nearly five-year gap between her and Elizabeth.

The promise that had been, "I'll always come and help teach Mommy a lesson with you, Izzy, so it's two on two," had swiftly evolved into an ashamed little girl who was terrified of her own sister.

"You're stronger now, though, Elizabeth." Darcy echoed her earlier words, brushing his bandaged fingers against her cheek. Whoever the little bastards were, he wanted to go invoke pain onto them for causing such an expression of defeat to appear on Elizabeth's face. Elizabeth smiled softly, crawling over to Darcy to give him a hug; she noted the absence of the foreign object she'd felt before beneath his left arm to question him about it on a later date.

"You can be a real sweet guy when you want to be, Crispy." Elizabeth told him, curling into his side.

"No, I'm just good at repeating the words of a rather brilliant girl. I'd like to think she's become one of my best mates, you know, but since girls are such fickle things…" Darcy replied softly, wrapping his arm around Elizabeth. It felt so good, so enlightening to him, revealing almost how close she'd gotten to his heart. He hoped he was worming his way through her defenses as well, though it was blatant to him that she didn't trust him as much as he did her. There was something different about how Elizabeth had been mistreated as a kid, and Darcy wanted to know what had made her so guarded. He was also pretty sure she'd said something after he'd sworn to always come for her, but he hadn't heard what and hadn't called her out on it.

Elizabeth tickled Darcy in revenge for his remark about girls but didn't reply to his other words. She knew she spent more time with him than Jane or Charlotte at the moment because he was hard to dissuade once he'd made up his mind about something, however, Elizabeth wasn't really bothered by it. Darcy always let her turn him down even though she knew he didn't like it and constantly had a back-up plan for the times she couldn't hang out with him. He never did anything Elizabeth didn't want him to do, and if he, per chance, did, he always stopped when she asked him to. Darcy wasn't one of her best friends, but he had become very dear to her in just two weeks. Elizabeth wasn't sure what she had with Darcy, but she was sure of one thing: it wasn't what others would consider a "normal" friendship, if that.

Gazing at the TV, neither of them really knew what was going on in the movie.

"Want to restart it?" Darcy proposed.

"Yeah."

- (Crappy break line) -

"What'd you think, Crispy?" Elizabeth asked when the credits started rolling. When Darcy didn't respond, she looked up, just to smile; his head had fallen back like when he'd laughed earlier, only this time it was back because he'd fallen asleep. A soft snore came form Darcy's nose, and a thin trail of saliva was slowly trickling down to his ear.

"Man, you're out." Elizabeth chuckled, ducking out from beneath Darcy's arm to find his laptop. Going down the hall to the bedrooms, she entered the first one quietly; inside, clothes were strewn about over an inflatable mattress while papers were scattered across the floor. Surmising that this room was Richard's, Elizabeth went to the next room; although it also only had an inflatable mattress within for furniture, the only clothes that weren't tucked away in the closet were the ones Darcy had taken off earlier before dinner.

Smack dab in the middle of the pile of clothes was a handgun in an underarm holster. Growing up in Texas, Elizabeth had seen various types of guns before, but she'd never once been able to get close to one. With her tongue between her teeth, Elizabeth slowly walked over to the firearm and kneeled down next to it, extending one finger to touch it. She knew it was pretty stupid to think it'd go off by itself, but Elizabeth knew of all the different accounts of accidental firings. Elizabeth, with a sense of morbid curiosity, ran her finger down the exposed, rough handle of the gun.

"Be careful."

Just as she was about to close her palm around the handle, Darcy's voice shocked her as it broke the pregnant silence. Elizabeth yelped, jumping in fright; her heart was hammering a mile a minute.

"James Patterson, Crispy, don't do that! You scared the crap outta me!" She yelled at him, turning to see him leaning in the doorway, sleepily rubbing his eyes. Darcy cocked his head to the side, lips parted slightly.

"Did you just say 'James Patterson?'" He asked, confused.

"Yes, never mind that – it's like 'fire truck' or 'bull shark' or… 'bloody', there, you'd get that one. Do you always have this thing on you? Are you a British spy in – what would it be, the MI5? The MI6? Her Royal Majesty's Royal Guard?" Elizabeth asked in snarky tones, narrowing her eyes at Darcy. Having just woken up from a nap he'd desperately needed, Darcy was a mite slow on the up take.

"Eh, yes to having it all the time, no to all of the rest. I'm just me… Dick calls me a paranoid prat. I do have a license for it, I swear." He managed to get out, rubbing the back of his neck in a troubled manner.

"That was the gun I used on that Bill Collins guy… it just makes me feel more comfortable when I'm alone." Darcy further explained, scuffling over to sit down, next to where Elizabeth kneeled, criss-cross-apple-sauce style. Elizabeth eyed him, obviously wanting him to continue.

"Mr. Reynolds was the one who first got me into guns. I've been carrying one ever since I was old enough to legally do it. I'm not a menace to society, and I'm not that great of a shot." Darcy provided with a shrug of his shoulders, not going into more detail. He could always feel eye son him, wanting him to fail or succeed, and he just felt more at ease with his gun strapped beneath his arm, like he could take anything on that came his way. Darcy was well aware that guns were dangerous, but his mistrust of people was too great. So far, the gun had only come in handy; not once had it been a hindrance to him.

"So, you're an ocean-hopping, billionaire publisher who owns a concealed gun… even though he's not the best shot?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at him. Darcy smirked slightly, nodding.

"Sorry to sound accusatory… it just surprised me, that's all, but I guess I should've realized it sooner. Bill Collins wouldn't have left a gun in your reach in that cabin, and I could feel it earlier, when you hugged me on the street." Elizabeth breathed, her racing heart finally going at a standard rate. She'd never really imagined someone as straight-laced as Darcy was to be the owner of a gun and a concealed weapon license, but she also hadn't though him to be the type that would position the couch, coffee table, and TV stand just close enough for him to be able to work the DVD player with his toes.

"No, it's all right. Why were you in here, though? You should've woken me up." Darcy gave her a bleary smile, still trying to fully wake up.

"You probably needed the sleep if you could be as out as you were through the explosions at the end of Sherlock Holmes. I was in here looking for your laptop to see if the subway runs this late at night." Elizabeth admitted, blushing slightly. Darcy gave her a light elbowing to the ribs, shaking his head.

"Even more reason to wake me up - your aunt and uncle are going to have my head. Let's get you home." Darcy stood and raised his arms to the ceiling, not quite able to straighten them out completely before his fists were pressed to the ceiling. (1) Elizabeth allowed herself a moment of gawking at just how tall Darcy was before she stood herself. She watched him stoop into his small closet, pulling out a pair of ratty trainers to tie onto his feet and a winter coat.

"You don't have to drive me home, you know." Elizabeth said, though it was a bit late to change Darcy's mind.

"Yes, I do – I promised you I would, didn't I?" Darcy replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world as he finished lacing up his shoes, rising to his full height once more to shrug on his jacket. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him but let it drop. It wouldn't be a new thing to her if he didn't keep his promises; so far, not one person who'd promised Elizabeth something had kept their word.

"Do you know the way to my uncle's house from here?" Elizabeth asked him, following Darcy out of the apartment.

"No." Darcy shot her a cheeky grin, heading for the stairwell. She narrowed her eyes at him crossly, not taking the bait.

"However, my GPS does." Darcy finished, jogging down the stairs two at a time. Elizabeth blew a raspberry at him, giving her all to keep a small distance between them since she couldn't go at the same speed as he. Darcy seemed to make it a game, dancing from on foot to the other on a floor landing if Elizabeth dropped too far behind him; by the time they'd reached the ground floor, Elizabeth was smiling once more, to Darcy's delight.

"See that? That's what you need to do more often." Darcy teased, pointing at Elizabeth's smile.

"What _I_ need to do more often? Tell that to yourself, Crispy! Maybe people wouldn't be scared of you if you smiled more!" Elizabeth retaliated, reaching up for his smile-less face; she was unaware that Darcy leaned down for her, letting her fingers sculpt a funny grin.

"There. You look much better like that." Elizabeth snickered. Right as Darcy was going to lean down even further to plant a kiss on her face and tell her she looked much better like _that_, Elizabeth slipped out of his range, looking for his rental car. Darcy sighed, shoving his hand into his pocket to grasp the car keys; clicking the unlock button, the car lit up just a few yards and across the street from where Elizabeth was looking.

"Could you put in your address, please?" Darcy called to Elizabeth, who was leaving him behind as she dashed over to the car. An eerie feeling engulfed Darcy when Elizabeth clambered into the passenger's seat, backpack in tow, as if she was depicting something that he couldn't remember. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Darcy crossed the deserted road in a few long strides, joining Elizabeth in the rental.

"This is fancy, Crispy. How do you work it?" Elizabeth held up the GPS system, having gotten to the maps but unable to log in her aunt and uncle's address because it wasn't an address preprogrammed into the GPS unit.

"That… is a very good question. Dick always sets the map up because he's driving most of the time." Darcy's ears turned bright red as he tried to help Elizabeth put in the address. They eventually settled on having the GPS take them to a drug store down the road from the neighborhood the house was located in; Elizabeth would be able to direct him from there.

Unlike how they'd spent the evening, a silence surrounded Darcy and Elizabeth as he drove, the only noises coming from the GPS voice and natural occurrences outside of the car. Darcy was quiet because he, personally, didn't want the night to end, but since the digital clock on the dash glaringly told him it was past eleven at night, he knew he had to. It wasn't a date that would extend to nightly activities, and it wasn't prudent to have Elizabeth sleep over. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was still trying to figure out just who Fitzwilliam Darcy was and what he wanted from her. From the way the apartment was set up, him being in the US of A wasn't a permanent fixture; he was almost packed and ready to go at the drop of a hat. On top of that, Elizabeth was almost certain he flirted way too much with her, but she also didn't really care. Even if he wasn't a pleasant guy for her to be around, he was one of the top bachelors wherever he went; it was an ego boost, to say the least, if Darcy found Elizabeth attractive enough to flirt with.

Darcy nearly jumped out of skin when Elizabeth told him to turn, having been too caught up in his thoughts; the GPS started screaming at him to turn around when he started following Elizabeth's directions. Neither knew how to shut it off or mute it, so Darcy just unplugged it from the car. Pulling up on the street in front of the Gardiner's humble abode, Darcy put the car in park.

"You don't have to—"

"Yes, I do. What if some madman decided to jump out of those bushes by the door? If I'm there, he can get me first while you run for the police." Darcy interrupted, putting on a mock serious face. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at his light joke, however, she let him walk with her up to the door. Since it was her first time being walked to the door by a boy (date or not), Elizabeth wasn't quite sure if he expected an invitation in or not. After she unlocked the door with her copy of the key, Elizabeth turned to Darcy hesitantly.

"Do you, er, want to come in?" She inquired, opening the door. Light spilled out into the front hallway from the direction of the kitchen, notifying Elizabeth that someone had stayed up for her return; with that in mind, she blushed furiously. With every second ticking by, her little excursion with Darcy seemed to become even more like a "date" even though it hadn't been.

"For a minute, if you'd let me, Kitten." Darcy's lips twitched slightly, and his ears were turning ruddy once more; Elizabeth wasn't the only one who'd noticed the light. Elizabeth nodded, leading him into the house, cautiously slipping past the doorway to the kitchen in hope of sneaking past whomever had stayed up; she'd reached the stairs before she realized Darcy had stopped in the kitchen doorway.

"I apologize that I kept Elizabeth out so late and subsequently you awake longer than you should have been. It won't happen again, I guarantee it." Darcy spoke deeply, dipping his head in what Elizabeth could only guess was a bow of sorts. Fearing that it was her uncle in the kitchen, Elizabeth rushed to Darcy's side to aid him in explaining only to see her aunt sitting at the kitchen table, laughing heartily over a cup of joe and a magazine.

"My dear, I am not that old. And Lizzie here isn't a little girl anymore – she can stay out as late as she'd like. Thank you, though, for your highly unnecessary apology." Mariabella waved Darcy's request for forgiveness off merrily, eyes twinkling.

"I'll see myself out, then. Even if you consider it unnecessary, I'd like to once again extend my apologies. Have a good night, Mrs. Gardiner." Darcy smiled shyly at Mariabella, not sure what to make of her. He turned to Elizabeth, pausing for a second before ruffling her hair affectionately for the second time in the night.

"Kitten." He said softly, not wanting for Mariabella to overhear him.

"Thanks for dinner, Crispy." Elizabeth said to Darcy's back. He raised a hand to inform her that he'd heard her before he departed.

"_Kitten_?" Mariabella said as soon as she heard the door close, holding back laughter. To her satisfaction, Elizabeth's face turned red immediately.

"You heard that?" Elizabeth squeaked, showing a new facet of her personality to her aunt. Mariabella had seen Elizabeth's many faces, but she'd never once seen her niece so embarrassed – especially not over an absurd nickname. Instead of replying, Mariabella just let her laughter escape, causing Elizabeth to slump down into a chair next to her, groaning.

"Do _not_ tell Uncle Ed or my parents or my sisters or – you know what, tell _no one_. Swear yourself to secrecy!" Elizabeth moaned, holding out a pinky finger for her aunt to shake.

"You're just as bad as my kids, Lizzie." Mariabella snickered, although she did shake pinkies with Elizabeth to steal the pinky promise. Elizabeth just stuck her tongue out at her, standing back up to go to the room she shared with her younger cousins.

"We just had dinner and watched Sherlock Holmes, Aunt Mari. Nothing happened." She stated softly in the doorway before disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

"I'm sure." Mariabella said to her coffee, taking a sip. While she believed Elizabeth hadn't done anything with Darcy, she also believed that the young man in question wanted to have done more; now, all she had to determine what was keeping them apart. Mariabella thought she'd get her answer when she heard rapid thuds coming from the hall, signaling Elizabeth's return.

"I totally forgot, Aunt Mari, but Emma and I both got accepted into the study abroad program we signed up for! I've got layover scholarships, and the money I make from editing other students' papers covers what's left. I also have some spending money, so I'll be sure to get y'all souvenirs!" Elizabeth exclaimed with a bright grin, hanging on the doorframe for a few seconds before scrambling away again. Mariabella chuckled, shouting her congrats as loud as she thought she was able to while still not waking her sleeping children.

- (Crappy break line) -

"I'll stay with you no matter what, Janie." Charles said, holding Jane close to his chest. Both of them were shaking like mad, so he sat down on their bed, placing her carefully in his lap.

"I know, Charlemange, I know." Jane whispered, terrified but elated at the same time. As the minutes ticked by, she almost didn't have the courage to check the results. She gripped Charles' hand tightly, until her knuckles shone white, when the time came; he gulped audibly. Both took trembling steps to go to where the fallout waited for them.

"So, what does that mean?" Charles asked, his voice cracking.

"Oh my God! Charlemange!" Jane shrieked, attaching herself around her husband quickly, not believing it. A scream fell from her lips, and she started jumping. Charles caught on within milliseconds and joined in on the yelling and jumping.

"What the hell are you two doing? You're interrupting my beauty sleep!" Caroline's livid shout didn't deter Charles and Jane one bit. In fact, neither heard her.

**A/N**: _(1) I know, sounds freaky, huh? Well, the average ceiling height is seven and a half feet. I looked up the relative height-to-wingspan ratio and used the measurements of a 6'1" person's arms for Darcy (on accident – 187 cm sounded taller than it was) to find out he'd hit the ceiling. Tall people suck, lol (no offense!)._

_Weeeell, you guys sure are lucky. I had a tennis tournament for tomorrow that got canceled, so you get your update early. I thought I wouldn't be able to get this chappie out. The bad news is, there might not be another update until August; I've got a weekend long church camp next weekend and the tennis state tournament to go to the weekend after that. In between those I've got a lot of things to do (like summer homework I haven't even looked at, lol). I'm sorry!_

_~ Tobi_


	10. I Trust You

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: (Lyrical, for a change) Because she's so hi-e-igh, high above me…  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Clarinetto14<span>: Thanks for the luck. High five for procrastinating and for finding FF being more interesting! X3 I've got to analyze The Crucible. Thank you for the review!  
><span>DaMuseFreak<span>: I'm sorry it irritated you. Would you mind telling me what was so vexing, other than Charlie's major lack of self-esteem so I can improve on it? Lol, my crappy break line is there because I haven't the slightest clue how to get FF's break line in my stories. XD Also, if I warned you about the Darcy cuteness overload, it wouldn't be fun! :P Thank you!  
><span>Pluxu<span>: You'll see. ;) Thanks for the review! Those deep, dark secrets will arise all in good time, promise.  
><span>Lilbitjrfan8<span>: Thank you! :3  
><span>Lena<span>: Thank you! :D Lol, I'm sure everyone wants Carrie gone. Dang, you're the second to guess right/voice their correct guess…  
><span>Twilightfanatic17<span>: Thank you very much! C:

**- I Trust You -**

"So this is the infamous George Knightley, huh?" Elizabeth smiled impishly up at the man, holding out her hand to shake. He was reasonable handsome with the whole "nice guy" look, complete with innocently twinkling blue eyes and impeccably soft looking floppy dark brown hair. George smiled at her, showing off a set of dimples that made him appear boyish, taking her hand.

"And you must be the little sprite Liz Bennet. It's a pleasure." George chuckled, voice as sweet as honey. Elizabeth took a liking to him, suddenly knowing why Emma was infatuated with the man; he was charming while not overtly so and quite cute. The more Elizabeth looked at George, the more appealing he became, but a face flashed in her mind, rejecting George's swift advancements in her esteem.

"'Liitle'? I take offense to that, Emma!" Elizabeth pointed an accusing finger to the tall girl snuggled into George's side; Emma laughed at Elizabeth, rolling her eyes. The height difference between the two of them almost seemed ludicrous since Emma was almost two years younger than Elizabeth but was eight inches taller than Elizabeth's diminutive height. Seeing how George was only a but taller than Emma, Elizabeth was struck with the sudden image of herself snuggled into Darcy's side like Emma was with George and how… _ridiculous_ they'd look; Darcy would look like he was watching over a friend's younger sister.

"You say you do, _Little Lizzie_, but we all know you don't give a flip!" Emma teased, swatting away Elizabeth's finger. Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at Emma, perfectly content to mess around, but because she'd been thinking of Darcy, it reminded her she needed to get serious.

"Hey, Em, have you finished my commission yet? I'll need it done before break since Cr—the recipients will be flying out to spend time with family for the holidays." Elizabeth asked, watching George out of the corner of her eye. Although he was still smiling pleasantly, she could tell that he felt a bit awkward being left out of the conversation; she made the decision to leave Emma alone with George after she'd gotten her answer.

"You mean those strange little wooden things? I've put down the first layer of white paint and started sketching out the décor. I hadn't planned on doing much more before break, but now I've got to finish it. If you'll revise a paper of mine, consider your debt paid off." Emma winked. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, thanking her friend anyway.

"Who is Lizzie giving those to, anyways? I wouldn't have thought her the woodshop-type from what you've told of me… and I thought you said you weren't doing anymore commissions?" George questioned, giving Emma a little squeeze. Having watched Emma grow from a cute little girl into the gorgeous young woman, he'd never expected her to reciprocate his feelings since they always seemed to be at opposite ends of things; George had been happily surprised when Emma made advance son him that weren't made between "just friends," not even childhood best friends.

"Um, she's never really said, other than two guys; one is a DC comic fan boy and the other is a sci-fi nut. She also won't tell me what the weird little things are used for, but I know she didn't make them. For your information, I have moved off of art, but since it was Lizzie who asked, I made an exception." Emma replied, pinching George's side. Graphic art design had once been Emma's major of choice (the third out of many soon to come), and she'd put posters around campus saying she'd do commissions of any kind. It wasn't long before Emma had been buried up to her ears in requests, and she closed up shop because of how tedious her hobby had become from her been in such demand. Since Emma was generally good at whatever she set her mind to, she didn't object to dropping graphic art design for political science so she could become a lawyer (because, hey, she got enough practice by arguing with George!).

"You know, you and that tall man looked like that."

Elizabeth jumped, caught unaware by Ana. She'd gone into the kitchen to get a Coke and ended up watching George and Emma over the breakfast bar instead.

"No we didn't. I looked like a pint-sized kid next to him while Emma and George look all couple-y like. Plus, I don't want to look all couple-y like they do with him." Elizabeth wasn't sure if she was lying to herself or not. She'd grown to fancy Darcy quite a bit, but she was leaving soon. He would, too, to return to Pemberley and his sister. Besides, Darcy was an established CEO or a prominent publishing company while Elizabeth was just a college student aspiring to become an author; there was no way that they, if they ever became a couple, which Elizabeth was telling herself she didn't want, could work anything out.

"Lizzie, you realize quite a few people will look like a 'pint-sized kid' next to him? And you're not _that_ short, stop using hyperboles!" Ana laughed, prodding Elizabeth in the ribs when she heard her mutter something akin to, "That's besides the point, Ana."

"Plus, you both looked quite 'couple-y,' Lizzie. Emma told me about your commission – it's his Christmas present, isn't it?" Ana smiled patiently when Elizabeth didn't reply right away. Neither had noticed Emma slip away from George to hide beneath the breakfast bar and eavesdrop on their conversation.

"So he's an uber tall guy? Didn't know you liked that sort of thing, Lizzie." Emma popped up when she couldn't take Elizabeth's silence any longer; she had never been good at being patient. She wanted to know more about Elizabeth's mystery man, and dagnabbit, she'd find out more.

"No he's not! … Okay, yeah, who am I trying to kid. He's pretty tall, but he's not uber-pro-baskeball-player tall." Elizabeth sighed once both she and Ana had gotten over Emma's sudden appearance.

"Since George seems to be the tallest in my apartment, I can guess he's not here. Which is he, the nerd or the geek?" Emma took a quick sweep of the guests. Her friend, Harriet, was there with Robert Martin, along with Elizabeth's friends, Jane and Charlotte, Charlotte's boyfriend James, and Fred; since the only new face to Emma was James, she knew her guess was one hundred percent correct.

"The nerd or the geek?" Elizabeth repeated, flabbergasted. She'd figured the terms were one in the same for kids in school that were above average in intelligence; she'd been called both, actually, back in high school.

"Is the comic reader, the geek, or the sci-fi lover, the nerd?" Ana translated, giggling slightly. She could easily recall what Darcy looked like, but she couldn't really see him as a comic book reader or a sci-fi fan. Darcy had appeared too uptight to actually enjoy silly things like that until he'd wrapped his arm around Elizabeth (making them look "couple-y," as Elizabeth had phrased it).

"… He's the nerd." Elizabeth chewed on her lower lip, half embarrassed, half amused. She supposed it might be a bit harsh, in light of what Darcy had revealed to her about his first two years in boarding school, but it was too funny to think of his as "the nerd."

"So where is this tall, mysterious nerd, Lizzie?" Emma asked, creating an image in her mind that she thought Darcy would look like. Considering the actors Emma knew Elizabeth found hot, Emma figured he had shaggy brown hair, green eyes perhaps, and wire-rimmed glasses; he was probably skinny and shy to be the opposite to Elizabeth's boisterous nature. Taking all that into account, Emma figured Elizabeth's still unnamed mystery man was the "nice guy" that most girls dreamt about that was a bit on the classic nerdy side, not like the popular, modern nerd.

"He's, um…" Elizabeth paused, blinking. Had she ever told Darcy about her studies abroad? She couldn't remember if she had or not that night he'd made dinner for her; after that, he'd caught a cold (by being a stupid, typical guy) and had been secluded in his apartment by Richard. Elizabeth had texted Darcy on the week days when he was bored, teasingly informing her it was all her fault he was sick every chance he got, but she couldn't recall ever telling him about where she'd be next semester. She knew she hadn't told him about the party because she didn't fancy the idea of Emma reading more into what went on between them.

"You didn't tell him about our party?" Emma pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. She couldn't believe it! Emma knew something funky had to be going on between Elizabeth and Darcy since Elizabeth was being so secretive, but Emma had wanted to see them together before she and Elizabeth left for the awesomeness that was their studying in Europe.

"He's been sick! Crispy apparently has a crappy immune system; Dick couldn't stop laughing in the background when I called him." Elizabeth replied hotly, blushing slightly. It wasn't a total lie, but Darcy had gone back to work, she knew, since he hadn't been texting her all day. The day following their dinner, Elizabeth had called Darcy in favor of texting him, and he'd answered sounding like death warmed over. Dick was in the background noise, alternating between mad cackles and orders to get off the phone plus shutting up to rest.

"Crispy? And who's Dick?" Emma raised and eyebrow, as did Ana. Ana knew Darcy's name, unlike Emma, but she couldn't figure how "Crispy" came from "Fitzwilliam Darcy." Not being in the habit of Googling her friend's romantic interests or knowing major CEOs, Ana didn't have the pleasure of knowing Darcy's middle name. Emma just figured it was a peculiar nickname for a "Christopher" who was tired of "Chris."

"Ehh, nickname. Like you guys call me 'Lizzie,' 'Liz,' et cetera, et cetera. Dick is his cousin, the one he's currently sharing an apartment with." Elizabeth downplayed the pet name even though it was more intimate, or so she figured, than people calling her "Lizzie." It was different… he was different… whatever relationship they had was different…

Elizabeth's face turned scarlet as her heart started to pound. She could see Emma and Ana's lips moving, but all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears because of her epiphany.

- (Crappy break line) -

"Will! It's so good to see you! Where have you been these past three days?"

Darcy looked up from his computer screen to see a simpering Caroline with his temporary secretary right behind her.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Darcy, she wouldn't listen to me when I said you weren't taking visitors other than Mr. Fitzwilliam." The young man stammered, twisting his hands behind his back. Darcy sighed, head drooping; having been out for three days, he'd come back to a bit of a back-up situation with contracts, re-scheduled meetings, transcripts, applications, papers needing confirmations… with everything, basically. The head of the American branch had taken her vacation time when Darcy and Richard had come back over, and so all the work had nowhere to go but a pile waiting on Darcy's desk. Darcy was glad that he'd been able to do some of it on his laptop in the apartment. With all that behind him and no texts from Elizabeth to liven up his mood, Darcy wasn't in the most gregarious temper, but he wasn't going to take it out on his temporary secretary since it wasn't the young man's fault Caroline was, well, Caroline.

"It's fine. I was about to head out for today, anyways; you should clock out, too." Darcy sighed, glancing at his watch; it was nearly seven thirty in the evening. No wonder his stomach was writhing and snarling!

"Yes, sir. If you stay past six again, do you want me to order dinner for you?" The young man smiled slightly, eyes flashing downward to Darcy's abdomen half hidden by his desk; he'd heard his boss' stomach growling ever since five o'clock had rolled by.

"Yes, please, I'd be most grateful if you did." Darcy gave an awkward half-smile, ears tinged with red.

"Oh, Will, are you hungry? We should go out to dinner! I know of this great sushi place we could go to!" Caroline gushed, having been ignored for too long. She scampered around Darcy's desk to his side, shutting down his computer for him and shoving all the paperwork on his desk haphazardly into his brief case.

"Let's go, Will!"

Darcy didn't reply, letting Caroline grab his bicep and lead him out of his office in a stunned stupor. The email he'd been writing for the past two and a half hours that was supposed to be sent out before six the next morning to a very important stockholder, one that Darcy would be meeting on Monday for lunch… it was gone. All the work, all the stressing over everything… _gone_…

"Caroline, what the bloody hell was that for?" Darcy gnarred when he came back to his senses, jerking his arm out of Caroline's grasp. She'd already been able to pilot him into the elevator by then.

"What? You're hungry, aren't you?" Caroline asked, oblivious.

"That's not the point! You shut of my bleeding computer when I hadn't finished what I was doing!" Darcy snarled, temper flashing. Normally, he was able to keep his short fuse in check for appearances sake, but he'd had a bad day. He didn't really care what Caroline thought of him, anyways; if she disliked him, it'd be for the better, actually.

"Oh, it's saved, don't worry. Computers are fancy like that." Caroline bluffed. She knew sometimes Word documents saved if a computer suddenly died, but she had no idea if an email was saved.

"Bullocks they do." Darcy snorted, grumbling to himself as he leaned into the back wall of the elevator. As he started mumbling about hating elevators, loathing backlog, the incompetence of new interns, his rant slowly worked into not receiving a text from Elizabeth. Caroline had been listening to Darcy, feeling bad, but as soon as she heard him breathe the word "Kitten," she knew exactly what he was referring to.

"Yes, how is dear Eliza, Will? Why didn't you go to her party today? It's been going on since… oh, since five, about." Caroline tried to seem innocent, but from his past with her, Darcy knew she was scheming. He decided then not to believe a word she said about Elizabeth.

"She's fine, Carrie, not that you'd care. I didn't go because I had work – work that _you_ just destroyed." Darcy snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Gazing down at his arms, he had the feeling that something was missing. His hand was still bandaged, his watch was still there, his ring was still on his finger, his briefcase… his briefcase!

"Bloody hell this is just a _fantastic_ day." Darcy sneered, angrily tapping out a random melody with his fingers on his arms.

"Oh, well, what are you going to do when she goes abroad with that Emma girl? They're going to be quite busy, going to thirty-two countries in just one semester…" Caroline ignored Darcy's new complaint since she didn't know what was bothering him now; all she knew was that she'd probably be alone in the sushi bar for dinner.

"I'll go on like normal, just add in some Skype calls." Had he been any other man unused to such occurrences, Darcy would have lost his cool (even more than he already had). He was used to Caroline making things up about women she thought he was interested in, but this was a new low. Elizabeth would have told him if she was actually studying somewhere else for a semester, Darcy knew; she'd be way too excited about it to not say anything to him, someone she talked to almost every day! He trusted Elizabeth, not Caroline.

"Oh." Caroline said, unable to think of anything as the elevator binged, opening its doors. Darcy departed swiftly, heading straight to the doors that led to the company's stairs. Caroline sighed in defeat, leaving the building with only her purse on her arm instead of Darcy, settling for dinner alone. She'd been so sure Darcy hadn't known about Elizabeth traveling, too…

- (Crappy break line) -

Darcy growled to himself as he exited the building, briefcase in hand, remembering Richard had gone back to the apartment before him in their rental; he'd either have to walk home or hail a cab. Not wanting to be in a car with a total stranger that could be a deranged psychopath, Darcy decided to foot it, taking off his suit jacket and throwing it over his shoulder. He needed somewhere _now_ to unwind from such a taxing day, but that wasn't possible.

Darcy stopped walking for a minute, setting his briefcase on the ground to reach into his pocket with his good hand, retrieving a little cardboard box and a plastic cylinder. The urge was too great; his fingers itched. With resignation, Darcy shook a cigarette loose from its confines, clenching it between his teeth when he lit it up.

God, he hated this vice, this weakness… this _flaw_.

Growing up, Darcy hadn't been a stranger to second hand smoking since his father always had a pipe or cigar on him; his father never lit up when he thought Darcy could see him, though. Darcy could certainly smell the lingering smoke around his father's suits, around the back porch, around his father's car, around the cabin they spent their summers in… everywhere. He wasn't too sure what his father thought he accomplished by "hiding" his bad habit – perhaps to keep his son from following the same self-destructive road? Whatever the reason, it hadn't stopped Darcy from stealing his father's cigarettes as a kid, trying them out with George Wickham because George, a whole two years older than Darcy and very "cool," had wanted to. At fifteen, Darcy had become addicted, and he was able to buy his own packs at seedy places that didn't ask him for his ID because they didn't think kids could be over six feet tall. Like his father, Darcy had "hidden" his habit, but everyone had known – Mrs. Reynolds, Mr. Reynolds, Leslie, even Georgiana when she was old enough; he didn't want them to think he was weak or needed help. Leslie had been the one to confront him first, and Darcy had tried going cold turkey for her. He'd never really been able to shake his routine, though, always falling back to cigarettes when he got too stressed out, when he needed an escape from reality.

Darcy was in a self-abhorring mood when he reached the apartment complex, trooping up the stairs slowly to come up with a viable excuse to tell Richard; he was still empty-handed when he let himself into their apartment.

"Hey, Crispy, bit late, isn't it? Even for you?" Richard joshed from the kitchen. Unlike Darcy, Richard had never been taught how to cook, so he was washing the soiled plates and silverware he'd used to eat Chinese takeout with.

"I have your usual chow mein in the microwave. You look like hell, so I'll heat it up while you go change." Richard smiled, gaze lingering on the bags beneath his cousin's eyes and the wilting to Darcy's normally taught shoulders.

"Thanks." Darcy replied shortly, heading into his room where he tossed his briefcase onto the air mattress. After he undressed and pulled on a random shirt and pair of shorts, Darcy changed the bandages on his hand before heading out to the kitchen. Richard frowned when he passed, smelling something sour.

"Where have you been, Crispy?" Richard framed his question innocently enough, but Darcy's defenses went up immediately. He knew Richard smelled the lingering scent of burnt nicotine on his skin, and Richard knew that Darcy knew that he smelled it, too.

"To a pub." Darcy lied, ears quickly turning red; he didn't face Richard, either.

"You never go to a pub. Where have you been?" Richard's voice deepened slightly, showing that he was getting serious. Darcy rummaged around the drawers, pretending to look for a pair of chopsticks that both he and Richard knew were stored in another drawer by the sink.

"Out." Darcy said vaguely, grabbing a fork from the drawer and his carton of chow mein from the microwave all without even glancing at Richard.

"Out smoking again? I thought you quit that, Darcy." Richard sneered, following Darcy into the den, standing in front of the TV with his arms crossed and legs apart.

To Darcy, Richard calling him as such was like a slap in the face. As lads, both of them had gone by "Fitz" since Richard thought his last name was the coolest name ever while Darcy didn't want to go by Darcy (that was his father) or William/Will (too common when you've got a first name like "Fitzwilliam" to play with). Since meeting each other and finding out they went by the same nickname, they both changed what they went by. Richard had switched to "Dick" because "Rich" and "Rick" were fairly boring to him, and he'd just found the wonders of comics at the time, starting with Batman and the first Robin, Richard "Dick" Grayson. Darcy had reverted to his last name, but Richard had called him "Crispy" since Darcy's father usually went by "Darcy" and not "Crispin." Sufficient enough to say, it had been a long time since Richard had called Darcy by his last name even though Darcy constantly complained about being called "Crispy."

"I did. Mostly." Darcy mumbled, blush creeping onto his face. He let his fringe cover his eyes as he looked down at his food while he ate, still avoiding eye contact with Richard. It wasn't exactly a lie since Darcy had mostly stopped smoking, but he didn't feel right admitting it.

"Bloody hell, Darcy, you know what it does to your lungs! You know it was probably a still-lit cigarette that killed your parents!" Richard exclaimed, throwing his arms up. He didn't want to be a dick, no pun intended, about this, but it was the only attitude Darcy answered to concerning this subject. Leslie had tried a gentle approach, coaxing Darcy into quitting, but it hadn't worked well.

"I know damn well, Richard." Darcy hissed lowly, shoving the carton of Chinese food onto the coffee table, standing up abruptly. Richard watched as Darcy left the den for a minute, coming back with his trainers laced up on his feet and a hoodie zipped up on his torso.

"Where are you going out, dressed like that? You're going to get sick again!" Richard called after Darcy, following his cousin out the door to the stairwell.

"Out." Darcy's voice, as cold as ice, didn't match the chill of the glare he sent at Richard. Richard stopped at the glare, watching his cousin descend the stairs fiercely, wondering if he should have gone about it a different way. He couldn't tell sometimes with Darcy how to open up particular cans of worms. Darcy was a placid guy most of the time until you started pressing his buttons, and Richard had just effectively smashed them to pieces. Sighing, Richard returned to their apartment, hoping Darcy wouldn't catch a cold again; Darcy was insatiable when he was sick.

- (Crappy break line) -

Darcy ran. He ran and ran and ran until he was gasping for breath with sweat trickling down his face. Darcy coughed harshly and sniffled, leaning against a tree in Central Park. His legs felt like jelly, but he wasn't going to sit down until his heart stopped racing and his breath became normal again. Darcy's stomach was twisting in knots, upset by not being able to digest anything before he decided to go out running.

Darcy placed his hands under his arms and slid down the face of the tree's trunk when he'd calmed down, head resting between his knees that were drawn to his chest.

Did Richard really not realize Darcy wanted to quit? That he disliked smoking as much as Richard and the rest of his family did? It was an addiction he couldn't stop, and Darcy detested it with a passion. Smoking meant he wasn't controlling everything. Smoking meant something wasn't all right. Smoking meant he needed a crutch, something to hang onto before he lost it. Smoking meant he couldn't rely on himself to get through things alone, without help. Smoking meant he was killing himself slowly.

Darcy groaned loudly, glad there weren't many people about; in fact, most people that strolled at night weren't around because of the weather. Snow had started to fall when Darcy had arrived at Central Park, but he paid no heed to it.

"_Your daddy doesn't love you like he loves me. You're just a spoilt prig that was born with a silver spoon in his mouth."_

Darcy grit his teeth together as the words of George Wickham echoed in his memories. He could still see that stupid, mocking smirk decorating the young man's handsome face.

_"__God, you're such a prick! I can always count on you to do the 'honorable' thing, Will! I heard that you helped that idiot Brian back at Pemberley… you should've just let him hurt himself."_

Those words were the last ones he'd ever heard from George Wickham's mouth. Darcy could've done something then… could've hit the side of the boat to notify the adults he was in the water instead of trying to swim around with Georgiana to the ladder… could've saved his parents… could've, should've, would've. They were all the same. Guilt gnawed at Darcy's belly in a famished manner, unease curling nicely around his neck to weigh down his shoulders.

"Stop it, you arse. _Stop it!_" Darcy ordered himself, pulling his phone from his pocket. His finger hovered over the number one, Georgiana's speed dial number, before he flipped it open to send a text that was long overdue.

- (Crappy break line) -

Elizabeth felt her phone vibrate, but she didn't look at it, paying attention to Jane instead. Jane had pulled her aside into Emma's bedroom after Emma and Ana had finished teasing her about her so called "mystery man," saying she needed to talk. If Jane needed to talk so desperately, Elizabeth's phone could wait.

"What's up, Jane?" Elizabeth asked when Jane didn't start speaking, playing with her fingers instead.

"It's not really a subject I'd like to broach, but… are you, um, seeing Darcy?" Jane murmured after a moment of silence, gaze landing anywhere and everywhere other than on Elizabeth's face. Elizabeth considered the question for a minute, letting it roll around her mind like a new taste.

"I'm seeing him as in I'm his friend, yes. Darcy is a great guy, once you open him up some." Elizabeth replied, shrugging. She wasn't about to voice her true feelings on the subject, that they might as well be "seeing" each other, to Jane when it was such a new thought to her.

"Are you sure about that?" Jane inquired lowly, drawing a rolled up magazine from her purse. She handed it wordlessly to Elizabeth, having already marked the page she wanted Elizabeth to see. It wasn't like Jane had intentionally gone looking for something to incriminate Darcy with, but she'd found the magazine opened up on that page on Caroline's bed the night before when she'd been looking for Caroline. At first, Jane had thought it was an article on a pair of friends or something, but then she'd read the article title and was sucked in.

Elizabeth opened the magazine to the page that had been folded, smoothing the crease out of the page. Beneath an adorable picture of two boys the headline screamed at her, "**Fitzwilliam Darcy: Secretly a playboy killer?**"

"What is this?" Elizabeth asked, seeing his gun in her mind's eye. Was that why he was paranoid?

"Caroline thought you might want to see this since she mentioned you were getting close to Darcy; Caroline said I could show you but to not let it blacken your opinion of Darcy. She said it was friendly advice not to buy a word of what this article says, except for the smoking and playboy bit." Jane said quietly, eyes downcast. She really didn't want to show Elizabeth, but she also didn't want her new best friend to get hurt by a man she didn't trust… again. Jane trusted Caroline when Caroline said Darcy was a nice guy at his core but was just waiting for someone to get there and that Caroline would accept him, faults and all.

The article, Elizabeth noted, was written by George Wickham, like the guy Amelia had dated. The credibility of the article was flushed down the toilet for her, but Elizabeth couldn't help but read what it said.

"_The world may know him as one of the richest men on the planet, owner of Darcy Publishing, but this reporter knows him as a old, ex-friend. I grew up with Darcy, and can't count how many times this now powerful man was sick. It seemed like every other week in the wintertime he was in bed, faking a cold or actually suffering from one. It was then I realized that Fitzwilliam Darcy is a very good actor._

"_Darcy, at a young age, stole and smoked cigarettes. They were one in the same, almost, since he was taking his father's stash. He thought he was being cool, showing them off to other lads in his year; he was an attention whore because his father paid little attention to him. When Darcy didn't get the attention he wanted, he threw a tantrum worthy of the spoilt brat he was. On day, the late Mr. Darcy decided to visit his good friend in America and make it a vacation for the whole family; he took me along as well, telling my father I needed to see the world. Darcy didn't like it one bit since he'd have to share the little attention his parents gave him with me; he'd become unruly and unpredictable ever since his sister had been born, stealing away his parents._

"_The vacation, surprisingly, went without a hitch until the day before we were supposed to fly back to Derbyshire. We met Mr. Darcy's friend and his kids, a pair of twins and an older girl, and played with them mostly while the adults went places together. With the three new kids to show off to, Darcy seemed satisfied, especially since the twins hung off of every word he said; I suppose it was him noticing that the twins' elder sister had a crush on me that set him off._

"_Calling it a family outing, Mr. Darcy rented a boat on that last, special day. Darcy, in what I assume was rebellious rage, had stolen his father's lighter and a pack of cigarettes. When the adults had locked themselves below deck to indulge themselves without the nuisance that was us kids, Darcy was enraged. To show his displeasure, Darcy started smoking with his baby sister and myself on the deck. None of us realized that his first one never went out when he dropped it on the ground. Darcy started playing with the lighter after that, showing little Georgiana Darcy, who hadn't even had her first birthday yet, the enchanting flame. When he had it too close to Georgiana's pudgy hands, I pushed Darcy away, not meaning to send him overboard; Georgiana fell with her brother._

"_Before I could throw the life preserver ring to Darcy, the boat sped away from him and his sister. None of us had noticed the late Mr. Darcy go to the wheel to drive us out further into the ocean. He was gone, back below deck, before I had a chance to tell him that his children weren't with us anymore. Then, the fire spread. After trying my best to get the adults out, I had to jump overboard. I spent almost four days floating out at sea before a deep sea fishing boat found me._

"_I can't say for sure that Darcy inadvertently killed his parents and made his sister go legally blind, but I can say he still gets caught smoking. _

"_On top of that, this reporter knows of more dark secrets that Fitzwilliam Darcy has. One doesn't think of 'playboy' when Darcy in concerned, but he is very much the tired cliché of a playboy millionaire. At an early age, Darcy had a healthy interest in the opposite sex like most young men, but he happened to like stringing them along sadistically. He'd pull them into his acquaintance by saying they'd be 'just friends,' but in reality he just wanted their trust so he could get into their pants._

"_It's not widely known that Darcy likes playing with other's emotions, but it's still another way to get the attention he craved but rarely got as a kid. When I went to college, I left Darcy dating his childhood friend, the daughter of his housekeeper. When I got back, he'd broken up with her right after taking her virginity; not two days later, another girl was hanging off his arm like a trophy girl. Some could say he was hurting from the break up, but I know better. One-night stands with drunken girls that won't remember a thing of whom they shagged are Darcy's specialty; he's and early riser and leaves before they wake. There were numerous cases around Derbyshire of the girls going to pubs and waking up in a hotel room they didn't remember renting, and no one really suspected Darcy because the town didn't know about his dark secrets._

"_Yours truly was strung along as well, like a fool. It started out slowly, with a few whispers, but suddenly I was getting dirty looks from everyone and all the young ladies avoided me. I started asking around, and only one bartender was able to tell me to fuck off because he didn't want me tricking any of the good young ladies in his bar. I asked why he thought I'd do such a thing, and he replied that Darcy had warned the whole town of my 'evil deeds.' I left England then, unable to swallow the fact my hometown hated me._

"_That Fitzwilliam Darcy is one sneaky bastard._"

Elizabeth scanned the page over, looking closely at the top picture with the two boys. His hair was a bit lighter blond, but the boy that was allegedly Darcy looked exactly like Angel, only smaller and skinnier; the other boy, supposedly a young George Wickham, appeared to be a bit older than Darcy. George's smile looked fake, almost, and his daring brown eyes had sinister shadows over them because of hi long bangs from his Beatlesque haircut. A smaller, pixilated picture after the article showed a tall, dark man lighting up right outside the Darcy Publishing building in New York, New York. It could have been anyone, but with the doors nearby, it wasn't easy to say with one hundred percent confidence that it wasn't Darcy since the man's head was close to the top of the doorframe.

"This is a bunch of complete and utter bull shit. Do you believe this?" Elizabeth said at last, looking at Jane. Jane shrugged, shuffling her feet awkwardly.

"Not really… but why would someone make something like that up? I mean, we'll never know for sure what set that yacht on fire, but we do know that Darcy and his sister survived somehow. Georgie is legally blind, and Darcy does smoke. Some of it is true, at least." Jane replied. Quite honestly, she didn't think Charles would be such great friends with someone as cruel as that, and Darcy didn't seem like an "attention whore" to her. He seemed to avoid it, in fact.

"All great lies - or _stories_ have some truth in them. You know there was once a 'real' werewolf? It was just a trained hyena imported from Africa. Dracula is actually based off of Vlad the Impaler, an actual prince." Elizabeth retorted, rolling up the magazine angrily, but the seeds of doubt had been planted in Darcy's true meaning of wanting to be friends with her. Caroline had told her Darcy was the love 'em and leave 'em type, but she hadn't truly believed Caroline. Elizabeth had also been in the dark about Darcy smoking.

Some things were just too good to be true, after all.

- (Crappy break line) -

When no reply to his text came, Darcy jogged back to the apartment complex, shaking snow from his hair and shoulders. He wondered if something was wrong since Elizabeth had always been quick to answer his texts, even when she'd bee in class. Darcy found Richard watching Sherlock Holmes with a bowl of popcorn sitting in his lap and a beer sitting on the coffee table.

"Hey." Richard said cautiously, unsure if Darcy felt better or had just simply gotten too cold. To him, Darcy definitely seemed frozen with a dusting of snow melting on him, a red nose, and purpling fingers.

"Hey. Do you have the car keys, Dick?" Darcy asked, offering a small smile to show Richard that all was forgotten. Richard smiled back, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

"In my room in my suit pants. Why? I put your food into the fridge so it wouldn't spoil; you don't need to go out and get more. I also went grocery shopping, so we don't need anything." Richard explained to his cousin, not getting an immediate answer since Darcy left to get the keys.

"Thanks for that. I'll finish it when I come back. I just want to check up on Elizabeth, see if she's doing all right… she didn't respond to my text." Darcy replied, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl. Richard pretend-swatted away Darcy's hand, hugging the bowl to his chest.

"My popcorn, Crisp, _mine_. Man, you two attached at the hip or something?" Richard taunted, rolling his eyes. He knew Darcy wanted to be attached to Elizabeth's hip; it was virtually sickening to Richard at how besotted Darcy was.

"Bullocks. No, she just usually responds pretty quickly." Darcy blushed, stealing another handful of popcorn before leaving. He ignored Richard's shout of, "Go get 'er, Tiger!"

Darcy didn't remember the exact address to the Gardiner's abode, but he didn't remember the directions Elizabeth had told them once they'd gotten to the drug store. He set his course to the store, vivid imagination getting the best of him; Elizabeth could be sick, she could be missing, she could be…

"… _Why didn't you go to her party today? It's been going on since… oh, since five, about_."

Caroline's words from earlier rang out in Darcy's mind when he made the turn at the drug store, the GPS screeching at him he was going the wrong way. Darcy violently yanked the GPS's cord from the dash, scowling. Caroline had been lying to him; there was no way Elizabeth wouldn't have told him about her party!

"I trust you, Kitten." Darcy whispered aloud, mostly to assure himself that he wasn't going to doubt Elizabeth. He reached the Gardiner's house in no time and parked across the street from their house. Darcy, having warmed up in the car, dreaded leaving its warm confines for the cold, winder night air, but he did so anyways, quickly jogging up to the Gardiner's front door and knocking.

"Who's you?" A little girl opened the door, big green eyes wide. She was already in her pajamas, a nightgown featuring Tinker Bell, and her frizzy brown hair was slightly damp. The girl was so small Darcy didn't register her question, wondering how on earth she'd been able to open the door let alone reach the doorknob.

"MUMMY! A STWANGE MAN'S AT DA DOOR!" The girl suddenly screamed, scampering away.

"No! Um, I… er, hello, Mrs. Gardiner." Darcy stammered apologetically when Mariabella came running.

"Oh, it's just you! Thank God." Mariabella laughed, holding her hand over her racing heart. Eadbard poked his head out from the kitchen upon hearing Bonnie's shout, and he recognized Darcy immediately. He knew Mariabella could handle the man quite well.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, no, it's quite all right, Darcy. What can I do for you? Would you like to come in, have some coffee?" Mariabella assure him, waving off Darcy's apology. She started brushing off the snow gathering on his broad shoulders before she realized what she was doing; Mariabella's cheeks tinted pink slightly when she did.

"I'm sorry, being a mum has made me… well, you can see." Mariabella laughed it off, hoping Darcy would, too. He gave her a smile, complete with his dimples, nodding.

"No, thank you. I don't mind, really. Is… is Elizabeth in? I texted her, and she didn't reply like she normally does. I just figured, given the time… maybe she's sick? Or..." Darcy trailed off awkwardly, gazing down the hall just over Mariabella's shoulder instead of at her face. His face was bright red; he knew it.

"Oh, no, Lizzie is at her friend's apartment for their going away party. Didn't she tell you?" Mariabella said, narrowing her eyes up at Darcy. Something was off with the pair of them, but she didn't know quite what. It was endearing, though, that Darcy had come over to see if Elizabeth had fallen ill just because she hadn't texted him back.

"That-that's today? I'm sorry, I've been sick recently and… I must have lost track of the days." Darcy managed to say, the shock evident on his face. Caroline hadn't been lying? Elizabeth was really leaving him? Well, not him singularly, but studying abroad…

"Of course. I'm sorry you've been sick. Emma's apartment is in the Highbury complex near campus; you can't miss it. Her apartment is 1815… just incase that's escaped you, too." Mariabella winked, giving Darcy a secretive smile. He returned a half-excited, half-embarrassed smile with a sliver of his teeth showing.

"Yes, how could I forget? Thank you, Mrs. Gardiner." Darcy said, giving Mariabella the same bowed head he'd given to her when he returned Elizabeth home.

"Oh, Mrs. Gardiner makes me feel so old; call me Aunt Mari, please." Mariabella kidded gently when Darcy turned to leave. She had a feeling he was going to be different for Elizabeth, but a good kind of different.

"Will do, Aunty Mari." Darcy winked over his shoulder, briskly walking back to his rental. He warmed up before plugging back in the GPS, setting a course for the Highbury complex Mariabella had told him about. Roughly ten minutes later, Darcy had parked the car in the street a few doors down from the complex; in no time at all, he was inside the lobby, asking the concierge what floor room 1815 was on.

After obtaining the answer, floor thirteen, Darcy headed to the stairs. He ran up them, thinking about Mariabella's acceptance of him. He'd liked Elizabeth's aunt very much before, but now she was becoming one of his favorite people. Darcy's breath was slightly labored when he got to the thirteenth floor from all the running he'd been doing in the past hour, but he knocked on door 1815 with a slight smile. A pretty slip of a girl answered the door, blue eyes widening when she took his image in.

"Hello, is Elizabeth Bennet here?" Darcy asked politely, ears burning.

"Who wants to know?" Emma narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. Like Ana, she wasn't in the habit of Googling people and had made a point of _not_ knowing popular business people just to stick it to her father that she didn't want to take over his company. The man before Emma looked familiar to her, but she couldn't place his face.

"William." Darcy replied, wondering if this girl before him was Emma. He wasn't too sure what to say since Elizabeth might not have told her friends at the university about him. She hadn't told him of her leaving, after all.

"No, she went home already. You just missed her." Emma lied. This man, William, didn't look like a nerd even though he was pretty tall. Emma had already decided that Elizabeth's mystery man was named "Christopher," anyways; besides, you couldn't get "Crispy" form "William." Elizabeth was actually still in Emma's room with her friend Jane, talking about something important that was for Elizabeth's ears only.

"Oh. I'm sorry for bothering you, then. Good night." Darcy's smile slipped from his face as he left. He didn't know if the girl was lying or not since Elizabeth could have just left, and he'd look like a fool if he went back to the Gardiner's if she had been. He was stuck. With a heavy heart, Darcy decided that he'd just go back to his apartment to eat and go to bed.

**A/N**_: Heeeeey guys. :) Instead of doing my homework because I'm a super lazy procrastinator, I did this long-ish chapter instead. Be happy, lol. Don't expect another update until next week sometime, or maybe next weekend. Review for the awesome Aunt Mari? ;P Also, if you haven't seen The Dark Knight Rises by now, GO. NAO. It is full of epicness even though it doesn't stay true to the comics and, if you know Batman, predictable._

_~ Tobi_


	11. Do You Trust Me?

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own "The Game." ;P  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Guest<span>: Ah, I'm sorry; I've gotten into the habit of not reading the chapter before posting it. I'll make sure to resume doing so, but I can't guarantee I'll see all my spelling mistakes. Thank you for telling me. :)  
><span>Harriate Slate-Thing-Hari-Hu<span>: … I'm sorry that you were screaming? =w="  
><span>Lena<span>: Thank you. C: I would, too, lol… Caroline isn't that cunning while Wickham is.  
><span>Clarinetto14<span>: Thanks. :) Just wait and see, lol. Yes, cyber cookies for you for watching TDKR! –hands over silver platter overflowing with cookies-  
><span> 0r<span>: Thank you so much! :D Well, you'll just have to see if he does, lol.  
><span>MidnightReadingAddict<span>: Sorry that the beginning was confusing – if you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer. The cookies are what type you want and how many you want. ;) Lol, no, if Lizzie was based off of me… just no. XD I only made her a FF writer. The orange thing is actually because in the 1995 miniseries, Caroline wore orange dresses quite a bit. –is hit with cyber snowball that defies the sweltering heat- Thank you (for the snowball, tons of reviews and the love)! :D

**- Do You Trust Me? -**

"Hey, can you text me now?"

Elizabeth read the text before scrolling down to see the time her phone had received it; she blanched when she saw it'd been sent right before eight, three hours earlier. She contemplated sending a text back to Darcy, but a pillow knocked her phone from her hand.

"Emma!" Elizabeth yelped, rolling off of Emma's bed to retrieve her phone from the floor. In the tumble, it had sent a blank message back to Darcy.

"Sorry about the blank; it was an accident. I can text now if you'd like." Elizabeth quickly typed out, shielding her phone from Emma.

"Come on, Lizzie, who are you texting? Jane was here earlier and so Ana and Charlotte! Your aunt would've called instead of texting… Is it 'Crispy'?" Emma teased, waggling her eyebrows at Elizabeth; she had no idea she'd hit the nail on the head with her guess.

"… Hey, hypothetically speaking, suppose a gossip magazine printed an article on a guy you're close to but haven't known for long… and you don't know whether to believe it or not. Some of it you know is true, but other parts you're not sure about. On top of that, you've got someone who has known the guy for a long time saying almost exactly the same thing as half of the article… but she really wants the guy and would stoop to lying to get him. What would you believe?" Elizabeth asked lowly, frowning slightly when she looked up at Emma, who was still on the bed. Emma's smile fell a bit since she knew this wasn't a time to rib Elizabeth about her crush.

"I'd believe what my heart told me to, 'cause I'd ask the guy for his side to complete the whole shebang. You've got a gossip magazine's opinion and the competition's; you need his to really form your own view." Emma said seriously, the gears in her mind grinding. Elizabeth's "Crispy" had to be somewhat famous to have a magazine writing stories about him… a chill crawled slowly down Emma's spine as she remembered the man from earlier. He couldn't have been it, could he? That man looked more like a… a professional athlete or something, not a nerd! But he certainly had been tall and looked older than twenty-five… maybe she'd made a mistake?

"But what if he'd lie to you? What if he'd only gotten close to you just to screw you?" Elizabeth pressed, her anxieties taking root. Honestly, she knew she shouldn't make a choice without hearing Darcy out (or even questioning him first!), but she was panicking internally. For her whole life, she'd been told she wasn't pretty enough, wasn't smart enough, wasn't enough of _something_. No man would love her. She should give more effort, should dress this way or that way, put make-up on, sit more lady-like… A whole lifetime of put-downs and bullying had left Elizabeth insecure about her romantic issues. When she read romance novels, she'd always felt the yearning for something like the two protagonists had, clichéd or not, but in the back of her mind, she knew it wouldn't come true. Happy endings didn't happen in real life.

"Then you'll get hurt if you choose to believe him and let him have sex with you – _if _he's lying. But, you know, unless he's a really, _really_ bad guy, he's not going to rape you. You can tell him to fuck off and be done with him when his true colors come out, and Ana, Jane, Charlotte and I will be rooting for you the whole time." Emma smiled, ignorant of the storm brewing in Elizabeth's mind. She didn't know the depths of Elizabeth's insecurities, of all the things Elizabeth had heard from her own mother's lips.

Being born in France and raised in the way of fashion and status, Fatina never understood Elizabeth. When Elizabeth pursued her dreams of supporting herself financially without the help of a man, Fatina didn't understand why. When Elizabeth refused to date any smart young man Fatina tried to set her up with, Fatina didn't understand why. When Elizabeth skipped going to prom, Fatina didn't understand why. When Elizabeth chose to wear baggy basketball shorts instead of tiny booty shorts, Fatina didn't understand why. They were a poor pair, Elizabeth and Fatina, that never saw eye to eye on anything, perpetually butting heads. While Fatina had never meant to emotionally abuse her daughter, just get Elizabeth to dress and act "more like a girl and less like a boy," she had done irrevocable damage to Elizabeth's self-worth concerning the opposite sex's attraction to her.

Elizabeth's phone vibrated loudly, spitting out her ringtone and jostling her from her thoughts.

"That's fine. When did you leave the party?" Elizabeth read Darcy's text, giving a slight, mirthless chuckle.

"Speaking of the devil…" She murmured, tapping out her reply rapidly. Elizabeth was only faintly concerned by his text. She couldn't recall telling Darcy about her studies abroad or the party, but she must have because otherwise he couldn't have known.

"I never left; I'm still at Emma's to spend the night."

"Hey, Lizzie, what does Christopher look like? I mean, sometimes you can tell what kind of guy her is by the way he keeps up his appearance." Emma inquired, guilt gnawing at her belly. As the minutes passed by, she couldn't shake the feeling she'd turned away the man she wanted to see the most on accident. Emma has seen a glimpse of the man's face before completely closing the door on him, and from what she'd seen, it looked like earnest disappointment decorated his features.

"One, who's Christopher? Two, that was a hypothetical situation." Elizabeth replied pointedly, not meeting Emma's gaze, blushing somewhat. Emma smiled, noting the similarities between Elizabeth and the man she'd turned away at the door; both were flustered when talking about the other (IF that man had been Crispy). It was pretty cute.

"Isn't 'Crispy' short for 'Christopher'? Okay, whatever you say, Lizzie." Emma said sarcastically, rolling her eyes; she didn't believe Elizabeth for once second. Elizabeth's phone vibrated before she retorted anything, revealing a saddening text.

"Really? I was told you left earlier by a blonde girl."

Elizabeth frowned at her phone, not entirely sure what to think. Darcy had come to Emma's apartment, resulting in Emma turning him away. As she couldn't remember ever telling him where Emma lived (or about the party and her getting into the study abroad program), she didn't know how he'd even gotten to the right apartment in the first place. With the recent events still on her mind, Elizabeth came to the not-so-crazy conclusion that she'd gotten a new stalker. Darcy did seem to show up wherever she went, and he was always texting her, hungry for information about her. Then again, Elizabeth herself wanted to know everything about Darcy and how he'd become the man he was; she didn't mind texting him all the time, either. Plus, Darcy _was_ good company.

"You saw him earlier, Em. 'Crispy' is short for 'Crispin.'" Elizabeth sighed, typing out a response to Darcy's text without even consulting Emma.

"She was mistaken. Emma, the blonde girl, figured your name had to be 'Christopher' because I call you 'Crispy.'"

"No way! That British stud is a nerd? How old is he, anyways? He looks pretty ancient for a girl like you." Emma exclaimed, knowing that Elizabeth had let her off already by admitting she'd seen Crispy.

"Hey, wait a sec, he said his name was 'William!'" She added, squeezing a pillow to her chest and pouting. If the man lied about his name to someone who obviously knew the girl he was pursuing… well, he'd soon learn one didn't cross Emma Woodhouse or her friends.

"Yes, 'that British stud' is a bona fide nerd. His middle name is 'Crispin,' and his first name he usually says is 'William' rather than admitting it's 'Fitzwilliam.' He's—"

"He's thirty now! Lizzie, how come you didn't tell me Fitzwilliam Darcy was your mystery man? Oh my God, that's why he looked so familiar! I think Daddy has done business with him… if not, Daddy definitely talks about him! Lizzie, seriously, why didn't you tell me after Ana and Freddie saw him? Didn't they recognize him? You never even said Crispy was British!" Emma interrupted, erupting in zeal; she beat her legs furiously against her mattress as she spoke, unable to contain herself. It wasn't every day one of your friends was being chased by a young, eligible bachelor that was English, to boot.

"No, Crispy is twenty-nine, Em. I didn't tell you anything because there isn't anything going on between us other than friendship, and no, they didn't recognize him at first. You never asked if he was English or not… by the way, don't call him 'British' to his face. Crispy prefers being called 'English,' the stuffy old man." Elizabeth waited until Emma had stopped torturing her poor bed before replying. She wished she hadn't told Emma now since the girl was throwing a conniption fit.

"Twenty-nine, thirty, no difference, really. Bull shit, Lizzie, you blush anytime you mention that hottie. You've got a crush, and you know it." Emma challenged, pointing an accusing finger at Elizabeth. She didn't even think of mentioning Darcy had done the same, beneath his curls.

"A year is a big difference. And I do not – on both accounts!" Elizabeth shot back, face flaming. Of course she didn't have a crush on Darcy… he was just a different friend, an interesting guy who was very intriguing.

"Yeah, right, and the Queen of England is a spring chicken. You liiiiike him!" Emma taunted, blowing a raspberry at her friend. Although Elizabeth had originally agreed to sleep over so they could study together, neither had even glanced at the pile of textbooks in the corner of Emma's room; now, it seemed to Emma, they'd continue to not do so. She wasn't particularly partial to studying, even when her finals were coming up, and Elizabeth's little thing with Darcy was just too juicy for someone of Emma's disposition to pass up.

"I do not!" Elizabeth retaliated, discarding her phone for the pillow Emma had thrown at her mere minutes before. Emma, seeing this, pulled he pillow she'd been squeezing out from under her, ready for the upcoming war.

"Honey, look in a mirror. I can fry an egg on your face right now – want me to go get one from the fridge?" Emma snorted, rising to her knees to get even more prepared; Elizabeth, on the floor, did the same.

"I'm gonna tell George you think Crispy is hot!" Elizabeth said after a minute, scrambling for something, anything to get the conversation off of her and her feelings (which she was going to maintain were totally platonic) for Darcy.

"Pssh, I don't care. He knows I have eyes, and I know he does, too. Just 'cause I can see someone else's attractiveness doesn't bother him. You really suck at arguing when you're so disconcerted, y'know." Emma sneered, clutching her pillow tightly, trying to anticipate when Elizabeth was going to snap.

"Do not!"

"Do so!"

As the pillow fight began, across town, Darcy stared at his phone, waiting for a reply. He'd sent a text reading, "Ah. Do you want to have lunch tomorrow? I've missed seeing your cute little smile. ;)" to her, and as it was the most forward he'd been, he was on tenterhooks. God, how he missed Elizabeth… While being cooped up in his room for three days and texting her constantly had been wonderful, Darcy longed to see Elizabeth in person. He was still smarting from Emma's rejection in addition to Elizabeth keeping something so monumental from him, and Darcy wanted to be comforted by Elizabeth telling him it wasn't so. Darcy still trusted her. He still loved her.

It took Darcy a few minutes for his own thoughts to really sink in.

_He still loved her._

Darcy stared at the blank screen of his phone as if it would suddenly become animated and tell him the answers to all his questions.

He hadn't realized he'd loved her until now. Gosh, what a terrifying thought, but at least he knew his love was only, so far, the same as what he felt for Charles or Richard. Darcy blinked slowly, trying to cross-examine his feelings; he didn't want to confess to Elizabeth and then be wrong about the depths of what he felt.

Darcy wanted to continue to see Elizabeth smile, to continue viewing her be happy; he felt the same for Charles (but maybe less smile-y and dependant). He wanted to protect her from all the bad things in the world, just like he felt for Georgiana. Darcy knew that anyone who tried to hurt Elizabeth better have good insurance and/or health insurance because he'd make sure they'd pay dearly, just like how he'd do for his other friends and family. Whatever his feelings were, they certainly were strong, that was for sure. Darcy knew he didn't love Elizabeth in a romantic way, only feeling strong attraction, but he was positive he already loved her as a friend.

With a bright smile, Darcy consulted his phone to see if Elizabeth texted him back; it fell slightly when he saw almost ten minutes had passed and she still hadn't.

"Oi, Crispy-boy, why are you staring at your phone like a love-struck pup? Are you texting Lizzie again?"

Darcy looked up from his mobile to see Richard entering their apartment, briefcase slung back over one shoulder and a bottle of wine in his other hand. Already used to seeing sights akin to this, Darcy only hesitated for a second.

"Aunt Catty, right? Let me guess, that's Pemberley's brand, isn't it?" He asked apathetically, eyes resting on the new haircut Richard had. Both he and Richard had had slightly long hair to let their curly locks shine, but their aunt didn't like it one bit. If a man had hair longer than an inch or so, Catherine said it was "too long" and "too girlie." Normally, Richard and Darcy were able to keep their shaggy hair, but the one time a year they actually cut it was to shut their aunt up, to humor and handle her. Before she nagged too much at them, Darcy and Richard both got their hair cut instead of the usual trim.

"Aren't you the little detective. Changed the subject, though." Richard laughed mirthlessly. He set the wine bottle down on the coffee table before tossing his briefcase carelessly onto the couch next to Darcy. With his hands free, Richard was able to slide his hands along his scalp, feeling the prickling of his impeccably short hair against skin of his palm. He wasn't partial to any given haircut, but he just didn't like the military crew cut because it gave him bad memories of his brief stint in the military. Richard had gone in for training and had failed at getting any further; since then, he was unable to look back with contentment. With Georgiana growing more and more every day, he felt like a poor role model for her because of his one failure even though, if he had passed from training, he wouldn't have been able to help her or Darcy.

"I should get mine cut soon, too, shouldn't I? I've only seen her for that bit of time we moved the furniture, and I counted over fifty comments on my 'long, unruly girlish hair.'" Darcy commented dryly, feeling the need to run his fingers through his still-long hair with the knowledge he wouldn't be able to do so for a while.

Unlike Richard, he was very fond of his curly hair; it reminded him of his parents. Darcy's mother had been the one with the untamable curls while his father had given him the dark pigmentation. While normally thinking of his parents brought him painful memories, all Darcy could think about was how his parents, his mother especially, had loved his hair. For a time, he'd kept the military crew cut his aunt so dearly loved, but after a while, the pain had slipped into the longing to see something, anything that could bring his happiness back. It was quite truly a strange thing, but it worked. All Darcy could remember concerning his hair was his mother's nails combing through it lovingly or his father's strong, large hand patting down a cowlick or two.

"Feh. I wonder what Lizzie will think when she sees you with the military style hair? You look like a prat, and you can always tell right away when you're blushing. Without that hair of yours covering 'em, your big arse ears are there for the world to see." Richard teased, going into the kitchen to get himself a beer from the fridge. A dinner with their aunt demanded he get at least buzzed afterwards.

"My ears aren't big!" Darcy snapped, choosing to ignore everything else Richard had said. Like he had since they were young, Darcy covered his ruddy ears with his hands, trying to feel if they really were as large as Richard claimed; he, for the life of him, couldn't feel or see a difference between his own ears and Richard's even though Richard constantly ragged on him about them.

"What you're doing now if proof that they are; you just want to hide them from me because you know I'm right!" Richard cackled, popping the tab on the can and taking a long sip. He was going to love it when Darcy's hair was short. Richard knew his cousin's ears weren't large, per se; they just stuck out from his head. When Darcy's hair was long like it was his wont, one couldn't tell because his ears were covered.

"Stop being daft, Dick. I'm never wrong." Darcy sneered, half tempted to stick his tongue out at Richard. Richard snorted, causing him to inhale some of his beer; Darcy only laughed obnoxiously and pointed at Richard as he started coughing and sneezing.

"Serves you right, you arse hole. OI!" Darcy ducked out of the way at the last minute when Richard threw an empty soda can at him. He threw an icy glare back at Richard, retrieving the can form the floor to throw it out.

"Aw, don't give me that look, Crispy. Go take a shower or something while I get shitfaced. Aunt Catty sure knows how to push buttons she shouldn't." Richard sniggered, giving Darcy a light shove when he went by to throw the can away. Darcy only grunted, trying to discreetly sniff at his underarms as he left the kitchen.

"Yes, Crispy, you do stink. Go be a good boy and shower like your elder said to." Richard called. It was his turn to duck when Darcy hurtled a pair of raunchy socks from the hallway at him.

"Pee-yoo, Crispy! If you just took these off, you _really_ need that shower!"

"_Shut up!_"

- (Crappy break line) -

Hours later when Emma's alarm clock glared an angry, bright blue, "3:16 A.M." at Elizabeth, she snapped. Covering her face with her chilled hands, she felt the specific hot stinging in her eyes.

"_You'll never amount to anything special with the way you're going, Lizzie!_"

"_No man will ever want a _disgusting _girl like you._"

Echoes of her past screamed in Elizabeth's ears, sharp and shrill, just like her mother's voice. Elizabeth could still see Fatina's face, scrunched up in a mixture of befuddlement and ire as she watched her daughter come home loaded down with books and scrapes bleeding tracks down her skinny legs.

"_Man, you really are a prude, aren't you? Sex is sex, it isn't anything special anymore! All I wanted was to do a cute-ish virgin, but all you've done is been a tease to me!_"

"_I think you should dress more… pretty-like. Erm, lady-like might be better. Ya know, more cleavage, less of those boy's shorts. You could be a real catch, Lizzie._"

The faces of her antagonists, both male and female, danced behind Elizabeth's closed eyelids. The few boys she'd dated always had the same complaint: why didn't she dress up more? Wear make-up more? Do more promiscuous things, like her little sisters? The girls Elizabeth had once considered friends had almost the exact same complaints covered with "sisterly" intentions. The whole lot of them were now just back-up when Elizabeth's brain decided to remind her she was insignificant according to Fatina. Elizabeth never considered herself insecure or meek, but in her weaker moments, those few minutes before sleep overtook her when she was utterly and completely alone, she knew she was just that. Meek. Insecure. Terrified. Helpless. Just like those stupid princesses waiting indefinitely for their prince in shining amour to come.

Elizabeth was convinced, however, hers would never come; she didn't need a prince, anyways. Plus, they were always portrayed as pansies or sparkly, emo vampires. Elizabeth didn't want someone like that; she just wanted a rock that would always be there for her when she needed him.

"_I've missed seeing your cute smile._"

Elizabeth hadn't heard Darcy actually say those words, but she could clearly see his little slight smile that appeared to be sincere, the softness that overcame his eyes when he spoke to her.

She really wanted to cry, she really did, but Elizabeth had sworn to herself years ago after her thirteenth birthday had gone awry that she'd never cry again over these sorts of things. Fatina had gotten Elizabeth a stunning set of earrings for her thirteenth birthday, and Elizabeth, while grateful, didn't wear them. They seemed too delicate, too easily lost for such a treasure, so she kept them on her dresser to look at when she wanted. One day, the little blue box had disappeared, and Elizabeth had been frantic when she noticed it.

"_Why would you care if the fichu (1) things vanished, anyways? You never wear them. They're obviously too good for an ungrateful girl like you._"

Elizabeth had realized her mother was hurting then, only lashing out at her because she just couldn't wrap her mind around a daughter that "acted like a boy." To further prove her theory, Fatina had cursed in French, a dead giveaway that she was uncomfortable with the situation. Elizabeth didn't sympathize with her mother, though, because she was aching as well. The final blow had come when Elizabeth saw her mother come home the next day with Lydia; Lydia's ears had been freshly pierced with Elizabeth's prized earrings hanging from her little lobes. Since then, Elizabeth hadn't sobbed herself to sleep; she hadn't even cried over anything that wasn't physically painful. She wasn't going to now just because some guy was showing what she thought was romantic interest in her.

Only… Darcy _wasn't_ just "some guy." He was… Elizabeth chewed on her lower lip, rubbing furiously at her eyes with her hands. Just what _was_ Darcy to her, anyways? A friend? A crush? An elder brother figure?

A little giggle escaped Elizabeth's lips at the absurdity of her last guess. It was half genuine, half forced to try and raise her dampened mood. An elder brother figure, indeed! Elizabeth sure hoped no siblings looked at each other the way she glanced at Darcy (she'd admit to that because, hey, he was a stunner and she wasn't blind).

Darcy sure didn't seem like a friend to Elizabeth, but he also wasn't exactly a "crush" to her; a best, he was that idol crush that ever tween girl had on some guy in pop culture. But, then again, it was deeper, more meaningful than that. It had grown from her original idolization of Angel, or Darcy when he was younger, so that what she felt wasn't even that anymore. Their relationship was different, she'd realized earlier… but how so, she couldn't put her finger on it.

Elizabeth sighed, removing her hands from her eyes and looking over at Emma's digital clock again to squint at the blaring face that read, "3:32 A.M." Sometimes, it wasn't a bad thing being an insomniac; in fact, it was very helpful when she was trying to cram for important tests. At other times, like now, Elizabeth really wished she could just _stop thinking_ so she could sleep. She rolled onto her stomach to bury her face in the pillow, trying to block the thoughts and memories plaguing her tired mind.

Elizabeth would concede that, when in the shower, one came up with the best things because washing one's body required no thought process; it was automatic. Squirt out the shampoo into your palm, rub it into your scalp and rinse – repeat for conditioner. Soap wasn't any different. One didn't need to think about that process, so they thought of other things while they ridded their bodies of the day's grime. It was just that simple. Elizabeth would also concede that in those last few minutes before you fell asleep, one's brain became a persistent, vexing little berk. It reminded one of all the bad things in life or all of one's regrets, not letting them sleep because of the increased brainwave activities.

Like now, for example. Just when Elizabeth had calmed herself, fixating on what she felt for Darcy instead of her own inadequacy and poor self-esteem, her brain chose to replay the last half of her conversation with Jane earlier. It was hard to believe the same man who smiled at her, eyes crinkling in such a relaxing manner, the one who'd burn himself then not care, rushing out of his apartment in a stupid manner that got him sick just because he was concerned for her was the same villain Jane believed him to be. Jane, who believed there was good in everyone, couldn't see Darcy as a respectable person; in fact, Elizabeth was pretty sure Jane was as close to hating Darcy as she could.

- (Earlier that night) -

Elizabeth didn't like being defensive around Jane, she truly didn't – especially when Darcy was concerned, chicks before dicks, right, with the sisterhood and all. A male had never come between Elizabeth and a female friend of hers before, not in the way she could see Darcy inadvertently doing.

"I'll give you that, Lizzie, the best stories do have roots in the mendacity of others." Jane sighed then, taking the rolled up magazine from Elizabeth's tight grasp.

"Is that all you needed to tell me privately?" Elizabeth inquired, not trying to be rude. While she and Emma were the stars of the party, it was also an intimate affair. She didn't want to cut Jane off, but she also didn't want to disappear for a long period of time.

"Well, I have some more news for you." Jane broke out into a self-satisfied smile. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, telling her to continue; instead, Jane rubbed her lips together, starting to bounce on the balls of her feet in excitement.

"I, that is, Charlemange and I, are expecting." Jane finally spilled, smile turning out into a full-fledged toothy grin. Elizabeth was stunned for a second, thoughts ranging from joy to questioning the turn of events. To her, it seemed a bit early for Jane and Charles to have a baby, but it wasn't her place to say that.

"Congrats, Jane! I'm so happy for y'all!" Elizabeth pulled Jane in for a tight hug, being mindful of Jane's still impeccably flat stomach. Jane returned the hug, still bouncing and grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"How many months along are you?" Elizabeth asked when they separated, eyes glued to Jane's tiny abdomen. Jane was the type of girl one wanted to see pregnant just to see how she'd look; standing at 5'7" and weighing all of one hundred and twenty pounds, Jane was a slightly underweight stick. It was difficult for even Elizabeth, someone with a wild imagination, to picture how Jane would appear with a growing child in her womb.

"Two. I've only gotten a home test so far; Charlemange is going to come with me to get an ultrasound this week to be one hundred percent positive." Jane said exultantly, finally able to stop bouncing; in place of that, she started playing with her hands.

"I take it that Charlie knows, too. Does anyone else?" Elizabeth questioned, having a feeling Darcy already knew. From what she'd seen of them, Charles had never been able to keep much from Darcy; she wasn't sure if that was a bad or a good thing yet.

The one inquiry made Jane's face fall; Elizabeth would soon know why. It seemed by the mere thought of Darcy sucked all the joy from Jane, exhausting her.

"Darcy knows. Charlemange told him over the phone with me. He…" Jane stopped, gaze resting on the floor. Elizabeth's eyebrows quirked together in confusion, wondering what was the cause of Jane's sudden despondent attitude. Stomaching the fact it wouldn't put Darcy in a good light, Elizabeth pressed her friend until Jane gave in.

"He asked us if we'd considered an abortion after a somewhat insincere wish of congratulations." Jane whispered, as if speaking such words any louder would threaten the life of her unborn baby. All Elizabeth could do was watch Jane, sweet Jane, rub her stomach slowly; she couldn't really see Darcy suggesting that the Bingleys get an abortion. It just wasn't him… or, it wasn't the man Elizabeth thought Darcy was. Perhaps he was a good actor after all.

"There must have been a misunderstanding, Jane. Crispy wouldn't…" Elizabeth started, but Jane's look silenced her.

"I'm sorry, Lizzie, but how can you misunderstand, 'I guess a congratulation is in order. Have you thought of having an abortion?'? That's a quote." Jane sighed, letting her arms cradle her stomach even though she couldn't feel anything there yet.

"I didn't mean to… I shouldn't have done this tonight, Lizzie, and for that I'm sorry." Jane continued on, watching the flurry of emotions cross Elizabeth's face.

"No, it's fine, Jane, really! I'm happy you told me!" Elizabeth bluffed slightly, giving Jane a sunny smile. It worked; Jane believed, or at least pretended to, that Elizabeth was really all right with the situation. The two young women left Emma's room, reentering the party.

- (Back to the present) -

"Crispy… must you be such a headache…" Elizabeth grumbled to herself, rubbing her temple. Yawning, she turned to Emma's clock for a third time, seeing that only twelve minutes had passed. Elizabeth rubbed her eyes in a tired fashion, pressing her face back into the pillow while hugging it the best she could. What made her fall asleep was her imagination concocting the feeling of a heavy arm draped across her middle and a solid chest being pressed firmly to her back in addition to the face that had almost kissed her. She would never admit to it, though, if ever asked.

- (Crappy break line) -

Darcy sighed, leaning forward to rest his chin on his knuckles. He had the undeniable urge to run his hand through his hair like he normally would, but there was no hair there anymore. During his lunch break, instead of eating, he'd gotten a haircut and shocked the people he normally worked with; Dick, on the other hand, burst out into raucous laughter when he saw Darcy had finally stopped putting off the inevitable.

On top of that, he hadn't seen Elizabeth, at all, nor had she replied to his text the night of her party (because Darcy didn't consider, "Sorry I didn't reply – my phone died," as a legitimate answer). Whenever he tried texting her, Elizabeth always replied a bit before saying she had to go take one of her final exams or had to study for the next one without any distractions. It was utterly maddening the way she had reasonable excuses while Darcy got the feeling she was trying to avoid him.

Darcy looked at the clock hanging on the wall, narrowing his eyes in contemplation. It was Friday, the last day Elizabeth had an exam, and it was almost the time she'd get out… plus, it had been a pretty uneventful day in the office. He _could_ slip out a bit early…

"I'm leaving now, but call me if something important pops up." Darcy told the young man who was his temporary secretary, tugging on his jacket as he passed by.

"Y-yes, sir!" The young man stammered, but his words fell on deaf ears as Darcy wasn't listening. As per usual, Darcy went down the stairs in place of taking the elevator, giving himself time to think. If he went to the campus dressed as he was, he'd stand out even more than usual against the masses in comfortable clothes to take their tests in because they'd pulled an all-nighter cramming instead of sleeping by accident. When he got to the landing of a floor, Darcy checked his watch; if he hurried and Richard hadn't taken their rental, he could make it to the apartment to change and still get to Elizabeth's campus before she'd be let out.

With his mind set, Darcy continued to descend the stairs with renewed energy to make sure he could change. He didn't like the attention he got when visiting the campus dressed in his work clothes, so he hoped being clad just as the students were would take some of it off of his person when he arrived. Darcy didn't take too long to get to the parking garage, finding the rental still within its winding concrete depths.

Because he was before the usual rush hour crowd, Darcy arrived at the apartment complex in record time. It took him ten minutes to go up the stairs to his apartment, change, and get back into the rental to drive over to Elizabeth's campus. Darcy felt a bit strange driving in the sweats he usually ran in, but it felt reminiscent at the same time. Ironically, the last time Darcy remembered driving while in sweats was going back to Pemberley right after taking his exams in college. Chuckling to himself softly, Darcy followed the GPS's directions to the campus, arriving there just as some college kids started trickling out of the doors stretching their limbs.

Darcy got out of the car and walked briskly over to the set of doors he figured Elizabeth would exit, leaning against the wall a few feet from them to wait for her. As the minutes passed and Elizabeth still didn't show, Darcy grew anxious, tugging at the dark beanie he'd donned to keep his head and ears warm, pulling on an errant string from him sleeve and the like. Just as he was going to leave, cursing himself mentally for getting the time wrong, he saw her waiting by the bike racks checking her phone. Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, Darcy hazarded Elizabeth must have left through a different set of doors; he choked on the influx of oxygen when a boy walked over to Elizabeth and gave her a side-hug.

Even though watching from afar made him feel like low-class trash, Darcy wasn't able to tear his eyes away from the scene of Elizabeth laughing with another male. A green-eyed monster danced along his taut shoulders, whispering crushing sentences to Darcy.

_She doesn't like you. She's stringing you along. Caroline was right about her. She's cheating on you. Kitten has moved on while you're just a love-struck puppy whining pitifully at her door._

Canceling out those infuriating thoughts, Darcy waiting until the unnamed young man unlocked his bike from the rack and rode away before he even moved towards Elizabeth.

He still trusted her.

Darcy took calming breaths as he walked slowly behind Elizabeth, leaning down by her ear. She didn't even notice his presence so close behind her. There was only a few inches breadth between her back and his bent torso, and she was none the wiser.

"Here kitty, kitty." Darcy murmured, unconsciously making his voice go into a deep growl. As expected, Elizabeth jumped, yelping in alarm; Darcy smiled brightly, wrapping his arms around her middle, drawing her back tightly to his chest.

"Who th—screw you, Crispy! Screw! You!" Elizabeth shrieked, heart beating a mile a minute as she desperately clawed at Darcy's arms. Darcy only chuckled, holding her closer. Oh, how he'd missed this! It had been little more than a week but his heart had been aching so badly for Elizabeth.

"Meanie head." Elizabeth pouted, letting her arms drop to her sides when she realized how futile her escape attempts were. She'd be loath to admit it, but being hugged by Darcy again made all her doubts about him vanish. While Elizabeth hadn't been avoiding him outright, she hadn't been eager to correspond with him, either, too confused about their situation. She knew it wouldn't take him long to erase all her thoughts, and that was what unnerved her. Jane hadn't mentioned it, but the talk with Jane had reminded Elizabeth how much she'd disliked Darcy before he smiled at her and apologized. He was good at that, smiling to win her over.

"You're the meanie head; you haven't agreed to seeing me in so long." Darcy said, giving Elizabeth's ribs a quick tickle. In his peripheral vision, he could see some students watching them, and his chest swelled with pride. They were watching, coming up with their own conclusions, and he, uncharacteristically, couldn't have cared less. It would only help Darcy if Elizabeth's classmates thought she had a boyfriend; then, boys like the one with the bike wouldn't take such liberties with her. Darcy almost broke out cackling at the thought.

"I told you, my finals were this week!" Elizabeth retorted, only pretending to be irate with him; with Darcy in this playful mood, it was extremely difficult for her to be cross or stay mad at him.

"Yes, but I could have helped you study. I could have given you a practice test or something. I'm not stupid; I could've helped you if you had agreed to see me." Darcy said, giving Elizabeth a tight squeeze before letting her go; a cold breeze passed through the new divide between them, chilling Darcy even though he was wearing a windbreaker in addition to a hoodie.

"I know you're not stupid, Crispy, but I—wow. Um." Elizabeth's train of thought vanished when she faced Darcy. Even though it was her first time seeing Darcy in a hat, she was pretty sure all of his hair wouldn't fit that neatly beneath the beanie; plus, his long sideburns were gone. A light dusting of stubble that would become a five o'clock shadow covered his jaw, but that was the only hair she saw other than his eyebrows. Elizabeth extended her arms up curiously, not perceiving Darcy bending down so she could reach high enough; her fingers grazed the tiny bristling hairs running down the back of his neck. It was weird, seeing the difference in his tan and not the usual curls at the nape of his neck.

"Why'd you cut your hair? I liked it when it was slightly long." Elizabeth asked quietly, tugging the hood of his jacket closer to his neck before removing her hands from the warmth of his neck.

"I—you did?" Another smile tugged at Darcy's lips at her admittance. If Elizabeth was going to stick around with him, he'd never cut his hair again after it grew out once more even if his Aunt Catherine nagged at him every day.

"Yeah, it was cute. Some of it curled, some of it was just wavy… it made me want to run my fingers through it like you did – especially when you did it." Elizabeth blushed slightly, lowering her gaze to the sidewalk covered in a light, crunchy layer of snow. She ran the toe of her shoe through it, creating a circle that would vanish beneath the feet of others. Darcy didn't reply for a minute, drinking Elizabeth in; she was just too adorable for words sometimes.

"Then I'll never cut it again. My Aunt Catherine thinks anything longer than this buzz cut isn't manly, so she never stops complaining when she sees Dick and me. We get haircuts just to placate her." Darcy explained after he was done imprinting the rare image of a shy Elizabeth into his mind. Elizabeth made a noise from the back of her throat telling him she'd heard him, but she didn't will herself to speak. He was doing it again, flattering her with empty promises that he wouldn't keep.

"Do you want to have dinner with me, my treat? I could make something again, or we could go out somewhere. It could be like a celebration that your exams are finally over." Darcy suggested, shoving his hands into the large front pocket of his hoodie. His fingertips felt numb, like his nose and toes, but he wasn't about to let the cold be an excuse. He'd waited too long to see Elizabeth, and he wasn't about to let her go so soon yet.

Elizabeth bit her lip, wondering what she could say. She still hadn't thought over yet what Darcy was to her or who he really was, and being with him sure wouldn't get her any closer to the answers. However, now that he was there, right in front of her offering to make her dinner or take her out, Elizabeth didn't want to reject him, either. Her aunt was already on the way to pick her up, too.

"I, er…" Elizabeth trailed off, making the fatal decision by looking up at Darcy's face. He wasn't encouraged by her indecision and gave her an justification to turn him down.

"You don't have to if you don't want to because you're tired from your tests, but—" A car horn interrupted Darcy, and both of them turned to look at the minivan simultaneously.

"Lizzie!" Mariabella waved, rolling down the passenger seat's window. Elizabeth glanced at Darcy before scurrying over to her aunt's people mover; Darcy hovered behind her at a polite distance, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Perhaps he was going to have to give her up after all.

"Yeah, Aunt Mari?" Elizabeth asked, keeping her voice low, acutely aware of how close Darcy was. She thought him to be the type not to eavesdrop, but she kept her voice quiet all the same.

"Am I interrupting something spicy? Haven't just caught you two kissing in public, have I?" Mariabella smirked, winking.

"AUNT MARI!" Elizabeth screech-whispered, blushing furiously. She glanced furtively to Darcy while her aunt guffawed.

"Sorry, Lizzie, but you're so easy to get to sometimes. I'm going to pretend I forgot all about you and drive away now. Be home before midnight, sweetie." Mariabella wiped an errant tear before pressing down on the gas pedal, not waiting for Elizabeth to form a coherent response.

"I hate my aunt." Elizabeth grumbled, turning back to Darcy to see him restraining his laughter.

"I hate you, too, bucko." She added, crossing her arms. Darcy just shook his head, dragging Elizabeth into a tight hug, swaying her back and forth.

"I'm really quite fond of your aunt, actually. Now, do you want me to cook or is there somewhere you want to go?" He sniggered, giving a light tug to Elizabeth's low ponytail. She harrumphed into his chest in reply, so Darcy started backing Elizabeth to where he'd parked his car.

"Come on, trust me. I'll make something for you since you're not cooperating. It'll be just you and me again since Dick is visiting our aunt." Darcy commented, trying to remember a different recipe Mrs. Reynolds had taught him. Elizabeth, on the other hand, had finally figured out why she couldn't place what she and Darcy had going on.

She didn't completely trust him.

**A/N**_: (1) French for damn/damned._

_So, heey guys. School is starting on the 22__nd__ for me. I think I'll be able to get 12 out before then, but after that, I won't be sure how often I'll update. Depends on my load. I've heard junior year is easy in my school, but you never know. Sorry about how long this update took – I went to the state tournament, like I said last chapter, and have been subsequently distracted by the Olympics after that._

_~ Tobi_


	12. No Air

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: To be or not to be, that is the question.  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
>Clarinetto14<span>: Thank you! :)  
><span>Harriate Slate-Thing-Hari-Hu<span>: Well, the Rosings part has to happen. ;P And don't be afraid to declare your love for Aunt Mari!  
><span>Justlovefanfiction2901<span>: Then there'd be no story, lol. I've got to develop the couple somehow. Also, just because someone saves your life doesn't mean you trust them implicitly; Elizabeth trusts Darcy only to the extent of breaking her heart.  
><span>Lena<span>: Thank you. :D  
><span>MidnightReadingAddict<span>: Thank you for reviewing! No problem. :) Lol, Emma and George aren't the only ones making cameos – can you find the others? Apparently, here sophomore year is the worst, but I'll have to see. No, thank you, again!  
><span>Glory Bee<span>: Thanks for the review. :)  
><span>CandiFloss<span>: Thank you. C: I think I've read some of _Thorns or Roses?_, actually…

**- No Air -**

Elizabeth didn't need to see her reflection staring back at her in the frozen food aisle doors they were passing by to know her face was beet red; it had felt uncommonly warm ever since she'd stepped foot into the grocery store with Darcy. On top of the staring from some people, he just wouldn't stop touching her. Normally, Darcy did happen to touch her more than her other friends, but now it seemed like his skin was constantly on hers. His large, wide fingers spread between her much slimmer ones created the bars to the cage; the tips of his fingers held her hand in place like little reminders, pressing every now and then against the skin right beneath her wrist. If Darcy wasn't clutching Elizabeth's hand like that as if it were a lifeline, his fingers danced numbers across her lower back and shoulders.

Elizabeth felt a chill do a jig down her spine that was in tune with her crawling skin; she could feel the expected stares of the people like weights on her body. It was unnerving. Elizabeth started slightly when something chilly pressed against her warm hands. There Darcy was again, holding her hand as if he was a little boy being told he couldn't let go of his mother's hand so he wouldn't get lost; a better analogy, perhaps, would be Darcy reaching for a hand-warmer since his hand, once he let go of Elizabeth's, always seemed to come back cold even though the grocery store was using their heater.

So preoccupied with her thoughts, Elizabeth hadn't noticed Darcy had stopped leading her through the store and was bending down to stand face-to-face with her; she hadn't heard him, either, when he'd called her name three times. Elizabeth blinked rapidly in surprise when she noticed she was no longer staring at the broad expanse of Darcy's back but the gray of his irises. Darcy had gotten pretty close to her, so she discerned the blue laced within the gray of his eyes before she saw his eyebrows were drawn together in concern.

"What?" Elizabeth asked a bit awkwardly, pulling a few inches back from Darcy, face growing even redder.

"Are you all right? I've been talking to you, but… do you have a fever or something?" Darcy inquired, bringing his free hand, the one that was constantly grappling for Elizabeth's, to press against her bare forehead. Elizabeth felt the chill immediately, and it was mostly in discomfort when she batted his hand away.

"I'm fine, Crispy, right as rain. Just… daydreaming, is all. I'm sorry. What were you saying?" She said, knowing she hadn't convinced him because, even though Darcy straightened to his full height, she could still see the worried crinkles about his eyes.

"You can peel a potato with a knife without hurting yourself, can't you?" Darcy repeated the question he'd originally asked Elizabeth, head tilted slightly to one side.

"You know where I came from, right? Of course I can peel a potato with a knife." Elizabeth joked in a snarky fashion, her words coming out harsher than intended; to soften the blow, she gave Darcy a smile before maneuvering around him to pick up a bag of potatoes.

"I'm not entirely sure what you mean by that…" Darcy narrowed his eyes at Elizabeth, mentally debating with himself as he took the sack from Elizabeth's hand to place it in the basket he was carrying. He could see something was bugging Elizabeth, setting her on edge, but he was unclear as to what it was. Darcy, himself, felt perfectly at ease with her at his side; he figured the root of Elizabeth's discomfort stemmed from this being one of their last days together before she'd fly out to Europe.

"I'm from the south, redneck country… never mind. It was a stupid joke, anyways." Elizabeth sighed, peering into the basket. Other than the potatoes, there were only a few small objects within it, so she hadn't spaced out for long.

"If you say so." Darcy shrugged, taking Elizabeth's hand in his own once more as he led her back to the frozen food aisles. He wasn't convinced, but after having brought up Georgiana himself, Darcy knew when to back off and pretend to be persuaded by whatever story he was told. What he wasn't picking up on, however, were the red flags Elizabeth was unconsciously throwing up: darting eyes, sweaty palms, somewhat labored breathing in addition to her temper flaring up quicker than normal. Darcy also wasn't aware that her cagey feelings dropped considerably after they left the grocery store with their purchases, safely tucked away from prying, judging eyes. Unknowingly, Darcy was able to raise her mood as well just by poking fun at her in a light-hearted way when they got to his kitchen to start cooking.

"So, girl from the south, redneck country… show me your unorthodox ways of peeling potatoes with a knife." Darcy smirked at Elizabeth, picking up the wooden cutting board and placing it in front of her workspace on the counter; he got the plastic one for himself for when he cut open the sausages.

"I might need a knife for that, y'know." Elizabeth jested tentatively, gesturing to the potatoes that wouldn't peel themselves in front of her by the cutting board.

"Maybe you should find it. You're over enough to know where they are." Darcy commented, leaning on the drawer that held the bigger and sharper knives in the kitchen; being as tall as he was, it was mostly his thighs pressed against the wood of the cabinets while the countertop bit into his bum. It wasn't very comfortable, to be sure, but he'd gleaned that a playful, innocent nature brought the untold stories forth from Georgiana. Darcy was betting it might be the same for Elizabeth since, in the past, the more relaxed she got with him, the more she opened up to him.

"You're in one of those moods, huh? I've been around you enough to know you're hiding them. Move you butt." Elizabeth sighed, mimicking his words slightly, shoving Darcy in the side lightly to make him move. She was on high alert for a visit from "the tickle monster," though, and was able to intercept his hands when Darcy tried to attack. Nevertheless, Elizabeth wasn't able to stop Darcy's advances, and found herself lying with her back on the floor between Darcy's knees, laughing until she cried.

A well-placed, accidental knee to the groin from Elizabeth's thrashing legs got him to stop tickling her. Darcy first reeled back first, letting out something that sounded like an unmanly, high-pitched yelp before he arched forward, pressing his forehead into the linoleum above Elizabeth's head. Elizabeth got a spectacular view of either Darcy clutching his crotch or his chest through the neck hole of his shirt; she chose the latter option.

"Bloody hell, Kitten, if you really wanted me to stop, you could've just _asked_." Darcy moaned into the floor, wishing the extremely painful cramping of his stomach muscles would cease.

"It was an accident, Crispy. Little Crisp will be just fine; you're only experiencing what most girls do every month. Take it like a man." Elizabeth snickered. With this close up view, she was able to see that not just his leg hair was curly and had a good topic to change the subject to if there was another awkward time when she'd first discovered that strange fact.

"Ha ha ha, yes, so funny." Darcy sneered, glaring daggers at the linoleum. Taking a deep breath, Darcy leaned back to recline on his shins, pouting at Elizabeth.

"I think I should sit on you." He declared with the air of a petulant child; Elizabeth could almost envision him as the little boy pictured in the magazine article Jane had made her read.

"Sit on me?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at Darcy, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, crush you a bit for revenge. Fair trade off, I think." Darcy smiled wickedly, a mischievous glimmer in his expression. Elizabeth just stuck her tongue out at him, not believing a word he'd said; she knew he wouldn't intentionally hurt her physically. That much she was certain of.

"No, no, no, no, no – hey, fattie, no!" Elizabeth scrambled for words when Darcy turned around and started to put his weight from his shins and knees onto her lap. Immediately, her hands were up to press against his back, and her legs were kicking frantically to scoot her body out from between his legs in addition to getting out of range lest he wanted to chase her. Darcy ended up sitting on the floor right in front of Elizabeth's jerking feet, earning him a few kick to his bum.

"Feel better now, Kitten?" Darcy inquired, grinning brilliantly as he leaned back on his palms, facing Elizabeth. Seeing as his head was pointed at the floor, the beanie slid off his head, revealing the haircut he'd been hiding the best he could ever since receiving it. Elizabeth was momentarily frozen in shock from both him being able to read her and finally being able to see all the missing curls. Instead of replying, she pointed and laughed; laughing at how absurd Darcy looked was better than tearing up. Having never been in a true relationship where she'd actually fancied her boyfriend, Darcy was a daunting challenge to her; she wasn't even sure if he was honestly interested in her or just being playful. Elizabeth felt like she could trust him with her life, but she wasn't willing to put her heart where someone could smash it…

… Not like Fatina had. Not like her sisters had. Not like her father had, however unintentionally he had done so. Not like her past "friends" had.

Elizabeth could handle being friends (or flirty friends) with Darcy, but as soon as she fell for him or he (did the impossible and) asked her out, she was heading for the hills. Normally, Elizabeth would dive headfirst into most things, but when her feelings were at stake, she'd learned to be extremely cautious. So far, she really hadn't been careful with Darcy after he'd apologized since he started out from her first crush, and she somehow felt like she knew him from all the times she'd imagined him to be her comforter. Darcy had actually turned out to be a good, sympathetic listener, and Elizabeth knew she'd revealed entirely too much about herself to him in only a month. She was content to go on like this with him, however, so long as that second, more intimate step was never taken.

"You have Dumbo ears." Elizabeth managed to squeak between her giggles, eyes rolling to the ceiling in a vain attempt to stop laughing. She missed Darcy turning to face her once more just so he could cover his reddening ears with his hands.

"I don't know what that means, but I have a feeling it's like Dick saying I've got huge ears." Darcy huffed, pouting once more, pretending to be offended. Coming from Richard, it was an insult he keenly felt, but from Elizabeth, he was just glad she felt cheerful again.

"Haven't you seen any Disney movies – the good ones, I mean?" Elizabeth asked, aghast. She made a mental note to start forcing Darcy to watch at least one old, animated Disney movie a week; she'd even bring over her aunt and uncle's VHS player to show him all the awesomeness he was missing out on.

"I've only seen _The Little Mermaid_ since it's Gee's favorite." Darcy admitted. He's seen snippets of some other Disney movies, like _Lilo and Stitch_ or _101 Dalmatians_, but the only one he'd seen from opening to ending credits was _The Little Mermaid_. He couldn't remember how many times he'd played a silent Prince Eric for Georgiana, letting her run around him in green pants and a little seashell bra Mrs. Reynolds had custom made.

"Prince Eric is a cutie." Elizabeth said without thinking, sniggering. Only when she saw the little, sad half-twitch of a smile of Darcy's did she recall that Georgiana was legally blind and probably couldn't tell what Prince Eric looked like.

"She thinks he must be handsome since we both have dark hair; Gee claims I'm the most handsome man on the earth, except for our father. Gee just really likes the two worlds thing because of how alone she felt." Darcy said quietly. It had been partially his fault for that lonesome feeling because he hadn't known how Georgiana felt until late into his teenage years, and he'd been trying to make up for it ever since. He had a surprise planned for Georgiana that she would love; Darcy was going to take her to Disney World in the beginning of the summer season to go on their Little Mermaid ride.

"Well, I'm sure she's a smart girl since she's absolutely right." Elizabeth sat up from the floor, propping herself on her hands exactly how Darcy had before her _Dumbo_ quip, beaming warmly at him. Because he was still covering his ears, she wasn't able to see how red they got from the compliments. Darcy took a deep breath to get back his equilibrium before he stood up, taking his hands off his ears to pick up his fallen beanie and jam it back on his cranium.

"Right. We need to get started on cooking or else we'll be eating at seven thirty." Darcy said, holding out a hand to Elizabeth; she took it, letting him haul her to her feet.

"It's your fault, you know." Elizabeth remarked, poking him in the ribs as she passed him to get to the sink to re-wash her hands.

"Pish posh. It'd be your fault since you called me fat." Darcy retaliated, getting a steak knife out for her to peel the potatoes with while he waited his turn to use the sink.

"Fattie." Elizabeth giggled, yelping when Darcy swatted her bum with the hand towel. She snatched it from him with an extremely red face, getting vexed by his extremely self-satisfied, boyish smile that showed off his dimples marvelously.

"I'm not fat; I'm just a tall, muscular chap." Darcy commented, not expecting Elizabeth to exact revenge on him for the swat with one of her own before he was done washing his hands; in response, he bent over slightly to poke out his bum, waggling his hips in a dare. Instead, Elizabeth hit him upside the head with the towel and left it around his neck. She would have completed the dare, however, Elizabeth knew she'd be going into dangerous waters if she had. Elizabeth supposed the new caution around Darcy was because she read the article and got cold feet from the new information.

She didn't want to be a notch on a bedpost. She didn't want to be loved and left. She didn't want to risk anything. All Elizabeth wanted was a constant, reliable rock, and that article she'd read had tainted her image of Darcy. He was now a danger-zone if things escalated too quickly.

"Otherwise known as 'fat.'" Elizabeth joshed, her back to him as she started chopping off the skin of the potatoes with the knife Darcy had gotten her.

It felt weird, cooking with Darcy, like they were a couple; since he was doing more of the cooking, Elizabeth could constantly feel his presence darting around the small kitchen as she peeled the potatoes. She could acutely feel him when Darcy had to get something from the cupboard above her head where the bowls and measuring cups were located. First, he put his left hand on her should to notify her he was there; then, she could feel the ghost of his long body right behind her back, his torso sometimes actually brushing her, while he reached for whatever he needed. Each and every one of the three times he retrieved something, Elizabeth turned bright red; she hoped he didn't notice.

"You can go pick a movie, if you want." Darcy said when Elizabeth told him she was done with the potatoes. She nodded, going into he living room and crouching on the floor. It had become a ritual of sorts: if they ate dinner together, without Dick present (which was all but one time), they always watched a movie. Seeing as the movie collection Dick had consisted of superhero flicks or zany action movies, Elizabeth had gotten to see many films she hadn't even thought to see before. She pulled _Pirates of the Caribbean_ from the lot, knowing one could never tire of Captain Jack Sparrow (or, well, she wouldn't).

"I'm going to the bathroom." Elizabeth announced, surreptitiously grabbing her backpack which she'd left by the sofa when they'd first arrived in the apartment.

"Right. When you're done, would you come and mash the potatoes?" Darcy replied, divided in his opinion. He could easily finish making the dinner himself, but it had been so long since he'd fried sausages, he didn't want to accidentally burn them by making the mashed potatoes. Plus, Darcy liked having to flit around Elizabeth's trim frame in the cramped kitchen; it made him have warm fuzzies in his stomach and a stupid grin to form on his lips.

"Sure thing." Elizabeth agreed, going not to the bathroom but to Darcy's bedroom instead. On top of his air mattress, she glimpsed the cold gleam of his handgun in the folds of his discarded suit again. Once more, it made her wonder how Darcy had become so paranoid, because he certainly hadn't spoken much about the gun or why he constantly carried it on him. Pushing those thoughts aside, Elizabeth unzipped her backpack, taking out the small bag sitting atop her books and laptop. Within the bag were two identically sized parcels, one with red wrapping and the other with green; the bows were both a silver color that brightly reflected the light form the hall.

Elizabeth put the red package on top of Darcy's work suit, smiling slightly. Beneath the wrapping was his missing drink-holder from the coffee table; Elizabeth had gotten Richard to take them when Darcy wasn't around. Richard had no idea what she was going to do with them, but she had assured him it would be awesome. Indeed, Emma was a genius painter and had been all for it when Elizabeth had asked her to decorate the odd little wooden things with the men's tastes. Richard's had been outfitted with a Batman theme (including one side of that Dick Grayson Robin that Richard loved), and Darcy's had been painted with a sci-fi theme befitting of his nerd loves. Within the drink holders Emma had added a bag of special herbal tea that she loved, wanting to contribute to the presents somehow with her own thoughts. Elizabeth had thanked her profusely when Emma had told her about the tea bags.

Silently, Elizabeth went from Darcy's room to Richard's, surprised by the stark contrast she was presented with. While Darcy's looked like it wasn't lived in, save for the messy air mattress, Richard's was full of dirty clothes and trash, like beer cans or empty pizza boxes. If she didn't know it was Richard's room, Elizabeth would have guessed it belonged to a (male) college student. Laughing slightly, Elizabeth carefully put Richard's present on the top of the tower of pizza and Chinese take-out boxes (it was literally a tower – he had a pizza box on the floor, four Chinese take-out boxes on the corners and another pizza box on top of them; so far, he'd gotten three levels and was missing two Chinese boxes for the fourth) in the middle of his room.

To make her excuse seem plausible, Elizabeth dawdled a bit in Richard's room, taking in the mess that she was now finding consistencies in; in addition to his pizza-Chinese box tower, he had a beer/soda-can table that a very beaten up laptop sat on. The dirty clothes were centered around, almost like a moat, a half-built castle of various trash items while the clean ones sat in an untidy heap far away from the trash. DC posters Richard must have bought in the 'States lined the walls, none of them straight.

Once she'd taken in all the organized chaos, Elizabeth felt she'd spent enough time "in the bathroom," left Richard's room, deposited her bag by the couch again and joined Darcy in the kitchen. He was fretting over the sausages, face dangerously close to the pan sometimes when he sniffed them, trying to tell if they were starting to burn or not. Elizabeth took his shirt collar in her hand and yanked him back harshly.

"You're going to kill yourself one day." Elizabeth commented dryly. Darcy just shrugged sheepishly, pointing to where the diced potatoes sat in a bowl with a masher right beside it.

"As long as someone's looking out for me…" Darcy trailed off, almost joking. _Almost_. Personally, he would feel quite elated if Elizabeth was the one making sure he wasn't burning his face by putting it too close to sausages frying on a pan, but he wasn't about to tell her that… yet.

Elizabeth ended up following Darcy's directions to make the mashed potatoes and then making sure the frozen peas made it out of the microwave; the sausages, despite Darcy's best efforts, got singed. It was almost seven when the pair of them settled down on the couch to watch the first _Pirates of the Caribbean_ movie, the drinks on the coffee table a safe distance form Darcy's sprawling legs. To amuse herself and Darcy throughout the movie, Elizabeth spoke Captain Jack's part when he did with a fabulously horrible accent. To some people the fact she knew his lines was quite sad, but Darcy found it hilarious; he even tried joining in at some points, saying Elizabeth Swann's parts as an alternative.

At around ten thirty when the movie ended, Elizabeth was curled into Darcy's side, head tucked beneath his chin; his arm followed the curve of her body, hand on the back of her thigh. Elizabeth's own arms were wrapped loosely around his middle, creating a warm embrace. Having cuddled like that watching movies with her father growing up, Elizabeth didn't think anything of it while Darcy was getting other vibes. Having actually had girlfriends before that he had been interested in romantically, he had more knowledge of what couples did, and every single one of his past girlfriends had wrapped around him exactly like Elizabeth was. Neither had any idea the other was thinking completely opposite thoughts.

"We should do this more often." Darcy concluded, turning his head slightly to get in a better position to smell Elizabeth's hair. With his toe, he shut off the DVD player, and the only light coming into the den was from the kitchen because he'd forgotten to shut off the lights when he'd taken in their dirty dishes half-way through the movie. Elizabeth yawned slightly, snuggling her face closer to the warmth of Darcy's neck; having pulled an all-nighter studying for her last final, she was drained.

"We do this often enough, you know. You _need_ to see more Disney movies, though. After the New Year, maybe?" Elizabeth mumbled, letting her eyes close; she didn't think Darcy meant more movie nights as "dates" and not "not-dates." Darcy felt like he radiated heat, and he was a very comfortable pillow.

"Fine, next time will be a Disney movie. Why 'maybe' after the New Year?" Darcy felt his ears reddening. Of all the handful of girls he'd dated, none had been so… seductive without even trying to be. He could feel, quite acutely, Elizabeth's breathing evening out on his neck, and that little mumbling number… God, how he wished he could kiss her!

"Flying down to my parents' for Christmas and the New Year, then coming back for a few days before term starts and I go abroad… might not be able to see you in between." Elizabeth replied, holding back another yawn. With basically no light in front of her face, she was drifting quickly into sleep, unaware that her ignorant bliss would be short-lived.

Darcy was silent for a few minutes before a grunt of disapproval rumbled through his chest. He'd gotten the gist of Elizabeth's family life, and he didn't think it would be a productive way for her to spend her holidays before going to Europe.

"Why don't you stay with me? Dick won't be around since Aunt Catty has her claws in him already. We'd be all alone." Darcy suggested, thinking nothing more than (somewhat) innocent things. Elizabeth, on the other hand, pulled away from him, distrust clearly present on her face; Darcy couldn't see it, though. All her sleepiness was gone in an instant.

"What if I don't want to be 'all alone' with you?" Elizabeth asked, leaning her back on the armrest of the couch, knees drawn to her chest protectively. Her heart was thrumming quickly, pulsing freezing blood through her veins.

"… You are right now… it wouldn't be any different." Darcy turned to Elizabeth, eyebrows quirking together. He knew immediately he'd pushed a button he shouldn't have, but he didn't know why. Elizabeth had been receptive to him all night and every night before…

"Yes it would! I'm not allowed to sleep over at a guy friend's house. Never. Right now, we're friends who just finished watching a movie and dinner. If I spent the holidays with you, just the two of us, it'd be like being a couple." Elizabeth was starting to panic. Hopefully, Darcy wasn't implying what she thought he was. She wasn't going to sleep with him just because she might not be able to see him between traveling for the holidays and traveling for school. Elizabeth didn't like the soft chuckle she head coming from Darcy.

"Exactly. I am… this is my way of asking you out officially. I mean, we're kind of dating already, just without the more intimate actions." Darcy smirked at her. He meant kissing, maybe a bum grope or two, but Elizabeth thought he meant sex. It wasn't a wild guess, considering she knew couples didn't sleep over at each other's places without screwing each other. From sheer shock at his apparent audacity, Elizabeth was silent; Darcy took it for concurrence.

"Since you don't have to visit that unhealthy family of yours, I think you might enjoy your break quite a bit more than usual. Plus, _I'll_ be with you." He winked at the end teasingly. Having never been turned down before and with the way Elizabeth had been with him, Darcy wasn't expecting her to reject him; he just steamrolled on with plans he was coming up with on the spot. His holidays were looking brighter and brighter.

"We could go to Central Park, play in the snow, walk… go visit Lady Liberty… things like that. I could take you to a famous restaurant you're not used to, and—"

"'That unhealthy family' of mine? 'Famous restaurant I'm not used to'? What do you mean by that?" Elizabeth asked, her thoughts running in circles. She sat immobile, watching the man she thought she knew unravel before her eyes.

"Your mother is abusive, you sisters are blinkered idiots, and your father is indifferent at best. I'd call that 'unhealthy' for you to be surrounded by such people. Your aunt and uncle are great; I'm surprised one of them came from the same immediate family of your father. I mean that you've probably never been to an expensive restaurant, let alone a famous once, since you didn't grow up with much money." Darcy shrugged, not aware of how many of the wrong buttons he was pushing. Heck, he wasn't even quite sure of what he was saying; his thoughts were clouded with thoughts that he would be finally able to say he was dating Elizabeth.

"So, what do you think? We could watch the Disney movies you want me to see."

Elizabeth just stared, completely stunned, mouth open wide. Darcy probably didn't think there was even a chance of her telling him, "No," from the way he was acting! Had he always been so arrogant? This judgmental of her family?

… This terrifying?

Elizabeth could see the confidence in his face, but because of the lack of light, it looked more sinister than anything. He was leaned towards her slightly, the arm that had previously been along the length of her side resting atop the sofa. Elizabeth didn't know that Darcy couldn't see her, just her vague outline; she didn't realize he couldn't see how petrified she looked. She felt a certain tugging in her throat, and her stomach was curdling.

"No." Elizabeth uttered the one syllable, shaking her head. Darcy didn't get it.

"Okay. I just figured that—"

"'No' as in, 'No, I don't want to go out with you, Darcy.' I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last man on earth; I'd go lesbian before that." Elizabeth clarified. It was a curious transformation watching Darcy's calm, easy-going face morph into all hard muscles and lines. Although Elizabeth thought he was getting irate, all Darcy was doing was trying, somehow, to salvage his pride. He'd never been turned down before, and now the one young woman he really wanted to go out with was doing just that.

Darcy felt Elizabeth's words like a slap to the face. No, she'd said. _No_. _I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last man on earth_. Even more preposterous – she'd got lesbian before dating him! Where had that come from? Not five minutes ago, Elizabeth had been cuddling with him! Cuddling, while watching a movie that featured a _Will and Elizabeth_ falling in love!

"And why would you say that?" Darcy bit out, measuring his words carefully, trying not to sound pissed off. His hand on top of the couch curled into a tight fist, making the skin over his knuckles turn pearly white compared to the light tan eh had. Elizabeth saw this and felt her pulse quicken even more, trust fading slightly.

"Why wouldn't I, after knowing all you've done?" Elizabeth wasn't sure why she was baiting Darcy; all she knew was that she never wanted to see his eyes so bereft of emotion again. Anger she could understand, but the blank slate scared her far more than anything else. It was like there wasn't anything in Darcy currently; it was painfully terrifying to see.

"And that would be what, exactly? Flirt with you only to get turned down after you flirt back?" Darcy's face was still blank. He wasn't mad yet, per se, just depressed; because he didn't want to show a weak side, he concentrated all his emotions to reveal nothing. Darcy knew Elizabeth's reaction wasn't one where she'd put him in the "friend-zone" like Richard had warned about. It was something else.

"N-no… you… I haven't been…" Elizabeth started to stammer, stopping when she started thinking back. Once Darcy had become overt in his flirting, she _had_ started to give him a taste of his own medicine. Whenever Darcy had become extremely playful, she _had_ reciprocated willingly. Plus, Elizabeth finally realized, Darcy wasn't her father or uncle and had probably thought… Oh, what a mess.

"That doesn't matter, anyways, because you asked Jane and Charlie if they'd thought about getting an abortion!" Elizabeth said quickly, shoving the mess to the recess of her mind to be forgotten about. She didn't want to think well of Darcy, not when he was supposed to be the bad guy right now. Not when he was asking her to spend the night with him as their first "official" date.

"Of course I did. Someone had to." Darcy shrugged, not making the connection. He saw no problem in asking Jane and Charles if they'd considered an abortion.

"You're an ass! You asked me out after insulting my family and my up bringing _and_ want Charlie and Jane to get an abortion! On top of that, you _smoke_!" Elizabeth cried. She really didn't care too much that Darcy smoked, regularly or not, but the fact was she had to find something, anything, flawed about him. Elizabeth was mentally scrambling for a defense, not knowing her franticness came from her actually wanting to go out with Darcy. Consciously, Elizabeth hadn't "friend-zoned" Darcy, but she had done her best to hide her attraction to him since she figured he'd never consider her. After all, Fatina had told Elizabeth that no one would want her. Why would Darcy, one of the wealthiest men from Great Britain, want a nondescript little kid like her when he could have anyone he wanted from the two-dollar whore on the corner to someone like Katy Perry or some other famous woman?

"Who told you that?" Darcy asked lowly, out of shame rather than vexation like Elizabeth thought. It was one of the things he'd rather keep under wraps because he knew it was bad for him but still succumbed to the weakness anyway. Once again, he didn't make the connection of Elizabeth's words concerning Jane and Charles.

"I read an article all about it… some childhood friend of yours. Beatle-maniac, maybe, 'cause of his hairstyle… I think his name was George Whitman." Elizabeth curled her lip, arms tightening around her legs. Another transformation crossed Darcy's face; now, she could clearly tell he was furious. There was not a void in his eyes anymore, only an unrelenting fire of hate.

"Why do you put so much stock into what that… _man_ says?" Darcy inquired through clenched teeth. It took all of his willpower to call George Wickham a "man" and not something utterly derogative… something that Wickham _deserved_ to be called.

"He's never lied to me." Elizabeth whispered, throat clenching as her dinner tried to trek right back out of her mouth. The one sentence drained Darcy's face of everything; he was completely blank, like he was sleeping with his eyes open. Darcy's fist even opened up, revealing crescent shaped marks from his nails imprinted into his palm.

"So, this is your opinion of me?" Darcy's voice was soft, filled with hurt. Elizabeth wanted to say it wasn't, but she didn't do anything. With no response, Darcy sighed, standing up and promptly banging his shins into the coffee table. He ignored the twinge, blindly shuffling over to the light switch.

"Cover your eyes, I'm turning the light on. I'll drive you home, so get your backpack." Darcy instructed, sounding defeated. Both of them covered their eyes before Darcy flicked the switch.

"I can call a cab." Elizabeth said, shadowing her eyes from the light as her eyes adjusted. When Darcy looked over to her, he was shocked; Elizabeth looked so small… like a cornered animal. Had he made her feel that way? Darcy had thought she'd just curled up like normal from what he could see, but he knew that wasn't true now.

"No, you can't. This is New York at night, and you're a girl. I'm not letting you take a cab." Darcy scowled slightly. Elizabeth shrugged, uncoiling herself from the fetal position to grab her backpack from the floor. She followed Darcy out of his apartment to the car, curling right back up in a ball in the passenger's seat. It wasn't a defensive one like on the couch, however, just one of her normal sitting positions.

Darcy drove the car back to Mariabella and Eadbard's in silence, only realizing Elizabeth had fallen asleep when he parked his car across the street from her relative's house. He eyed her with a sad look.

"I've never lied to you, Kitten." Darcy sighed, getting out of the ar. He opened the passenger's door slowly, collecting Elizabeth into his arms as she slipped out; Darcy grabbed her backpack before locking the car and heading over to the front door or the Gardiner's residence. With his hands full, Darcy used his elbow to ring their doorbell, waiting patiently until Eadbard opened the door.

"Lizzie fell asleep on the way over. I'm sorry for keeping her so long; I didn't know she was so tired." Darcy whispered as Elizabeth snuggled into his chest, mumbling something about being warm. Eadbard smiled, shaking his head.

"It's fine, Darcy. Would you take her to her room? I've got my hands full with the triplets, and Mari is out getting some, eh, products…" Eadbard winked at the end, causing Darcy to blush when he comprehended what the slightly older man meant.

"No problem. Up the stairs, second on the right?" Darcy made sure, stepping into the house, making sure none of Elizabeth's extremities hit the doorframe.

"That's the one." Eadbard confirmed, closing the door. Darcy ascended the stairs softly, meticulously entering the room he knew Elizabeth shared with her two younger girl cousins. Having only been in the princess-themed room once and fearful of waking the girls if he turned on the light, Darcy went by memory, shuffling his feet slowly just like he had back in his apartment. He considered it an accomplishment by running into only one thing (a doll house maybe?) before his shins hit the bottom part of the bunk, shaking the whole thing. Pulling a face, Darcy put Elizabeth gently on the bed, sliding her beneath the duvet before placing her backpack on the floor.

"Da?" A little voice broke the silence, and Darcy winced. He straightened his back, looking at the blob that was sitting up in bed.

Darcy couldn't identify which girl it was, Bonnie or Noelle, but because of the hour, he assumed it was Bonnie.

"Shh! Just returning Lizzie to you, go back to sleep." Darcy murmured, petting Bonnie of the head.

"Izzy's prince." Bonnie giggled, but she obediently lay back down under her covers.

"Sure. Dream about Izzy and her prince." Darcy smiled softly, thinking of how Georgiana had been at Bonnie's age.

"Is he handsome?" Bonnie asked, giggling some more.

"No, not at all. Right now, he's like Beast from _Beauty and the Beast_. You need to show him the errors of his ways, yeah?" Darcy replied. Although he hadn't seen the movie, he knew the plot behind it, and, at the moment, he felt like a bastard for expecting Elizabeth to say yes even though he knew some of her past. Just asking her all of the sudden was uncouth of him.

Darcy left the room then, letting Bonnie dream about princes and princesses. He stopped by the living room where he could hear voices to tell Eadbard he was leaving and ended up helping him calm down the triplets to send them to bed.

"Care for a drink?" Eadbard asked after thanking Darcy.

"No, thank you. I need to get to bed myself." Darcy joked weakly, shaking off all other offers until he got to the door.

"Will we be seeing you before Lizzie heads off for the second semester?" Eadbard inquired, accepting defeat this time. He knew of Mariabella's acceptance of Darcy's interest in Elizabeth, but he hadn't had much time to judge Darcy himself.

"No… no, I don't think you will." Darcy tried to look apologetic, but it came off as a grimace.

"Family time, right? Well, I guess this is good-bye, then." Eadbard stuck out his hand. He knew Darcy didn't have "family time" to attend to (or hadn't planned on it – Darcy might, now) but gave him an excuse to cover up his wounded pride; Elizabeth had probably turned the poor guy down.

"Make sure she… her mother, I mean…" Darcy trailed off awkwardly, shaking Eadbard's hand. Eadbard nodded, wearing a peculiar expression.

"We've been trying, but it's not going to happen quickly. It takes time." Eadbard said. With that, Darcy left, driving slowly back to his apartment. He felt drained, but he knew he had to do something. Just what, Darcy wasn't sure of. When he got back to his apartment complex, Darcy dawdled outside of it, burning through three cigarettes to cool down and think of all his options. The only thing he could really come up with that might work was a letter to give to Mariabella, telling her to give it to Elizabeth at what she thought was a good time.

With that in mind, he finally entered the complex, going up to his apartment. When Darcy reached his room, at first he didn't notice the present sitting atop his work clothes from earlier; all his thoughts were concentrated on getting some paper and a pen from his briefcase. After that was accomplished, Darcy finally saw the little red box with the silver bow. He blinked a few times, trying to figure out when it had been put there.

"Going to the loo, huh…" Darcy muttered to himself, picking up the little parcel. He considered the present for a minute before meticulously picking off the bow and peeling off the wrapping paper from the taped seams. Darcy was stunned when he saw what lay beneath the bright red wrapping; one of his hands moved to rub his jaw, hiding his melancholy smile. He looked at each of the four sides, appreciating the exemplary artwork of his favorite works of sci-fi. Darcy had thought Elizabeth had been spacing out when he ha told her about his favorites, but the proof that she had been listening to his every word was right in front of his eyes. Perhaps it was arrogant to think so, but Darcy didn't think Elizabeth disliked him or would turn lesbian before she'd date him. He was pretty sure she did like him but had some misconceptions about his true character since she'd heard things from George Wickham and wild guesses from Jane.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy shoved his suit onto the floor and settled down on his air mattress, leaning his back against the wall; in his lap was Elizabeth's present to him, a clipboard and some paper. Thoughtfully, Darcy fingered the newly painted drink holder before he began to write, trying to explain as much as he could in just one letter.

By the time Darcy was done taking his time in writing the letter, it was well past midnight. He rubbed his eyes warily, folding the letter to Elizabeth into thirds; then, he took out another piece of paper from his briefcase and started a much, much shorter one addressed to "Aunt Mari." Darcy was sure Mariabella wouldn't look at his letter for Elizabeth and would give it to Elizabeth when she deemed it best. Once he was done with the second letter, Darcy searched for two envelopes, putting Elizabeth's in one and then that envelope in the second with the note to Mariabella. Being too tired to do much more, Darcy turned off the light in his room and stretched out on his air mattress to fall asleep, toes digging into the carpet since his feet hung off the end. Darcy made the decision then to fly back to Derbyshire within the week to spend his holidays with Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds at Pemberley; being home might just help him forget Elizabeth Bennet.

**A/N**: _Don't kill me! –hides- Pre-cal and writing in this new-fangled MLA format is doing a fantastic job of doing that already. :c I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but I'll hopefully be able to work out an estimate once school has calmed down a bit. I'm not really feeling this chappie, either… if you want to rip it up, go right on ahead. I encourage it since I'm not too sure if you guys get what I was trying to convey. But, yeah. Love y'all favorite-ers, followers, and reviewers! Cookies to y'all. :)_

… _Just curious, but if (after this) I wrote a P&P FF where Lizzie was a professional tennis player, would anyone read it? I'm being plagued with plot bunnies..._

_~ Tobi_


	13. It Does Cost to Hope

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: … -runs-  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Colleen<span>: Thank you very much. Here's more. ;P  
><span>HawkAngel XD<span>: Thanks. You made my day. ;w;  
><span>Clarinetto14<span>: I'll be writing that next, then. Thank you. :) Dang, it seems oyu pre-cal is worse than mine, then! My teacher is pretty great, so I slip by.  
><span>DolceCanto<span>: Hi there. C: Thank you! I probably did call him Greg before; thanks for telling me. I'll find it and change "Greg" to "George." Thank you, again!  
><span>Chickenonaraft<span>: Aw, thank you very much! :3 I'll be writing it next, so I'll gladly take that luck, lol.  
><span>Ladysilver11<span>: Thanks. Same here – Darcy's letter is just adorable. I wish it happened nowadays. xD

**- It Does Cost to Hope -**

Steam billowed forth from Darcy's chapped lips much like the smoke stacks coming from chemical plants, and a cold breeze caressed his rosy cheeks like a lost lover's hands, easily worming its way down into scarf and jacket to bite furiously at the warmed skin beneath. It teased across Darcy's ears, whispering things he was deaf to, licking a cold path around the chilled, ruddy parts of his neck. A slight tingling sensation was traveling up his purple-tinged fingers, winding up into his forearm encased by thick cloth; on his clothes sat a light layer of snow easily shaken off. However, Darcy refused to do so, sitting statue-like on a bench dwelling within Central Park. Betwixt the fore and middle fingers of his right hand rested an envelope heavy for its size, growing damp with every falling snowflake. Tired eyes worn red by working through the night in poor lighting seemed to creak as they followed a lone frozen jogger along the path just inches from Darcy's drenched feet. He truly was a dreary sight in the dark, cloudy morning, lit up only by the dim streetlights meters away. One might say he looked like death only slightly warmed over.

"How long have you been chilling out here, Crispy?"

Darcy didn't look up at Richard, still watching the jogger instead. It wasn't like he'd felt depressed until his gloomy setting took a hold, leech-like, in his mind. It was a truly spectacular insult, that lesbian jab she'd made, and she had such a poor impression of his romantic life, as well.

"Not long. Maybe twenty minutes." Darcy rasped, taking his time in shaking off the dreary thoughts that had accumulated on his shoulders just like the snow slowly falling had. He raised one stiff shoulder first, then the other, causing the frozen water molecules that hadn't already melted to slip down his arms and back as a mixture of slush and crisp, microscopic flakes. Next came Darcy's back as he leaned heavily over the back of the bench, popping it quite a few times as he did so. Finally, he stood, shaking each leg before bending over to touch his toes, restoring blood flow to his lower extremities.

"I don't see a coffee cup." Richard said, watching Darcy with apprehension. After he'd gone back to their apartment in the morning from their Aunt Catherine's, he'd found a note left by Darcy saying he had gone out to get coffee. With the absence of one Elizabeth Bennet, Richard assumed that the impossible had happened, that she'd turned Darcy down.

"I came over here after getting the coffee; it was quite good, actually." Darcy explained, placing the envelope reverently in his pocket before rubbing at his eyes with his numb, freezing hands. Richard closely monitored Darcy as the pair of them walked back to their complex, noting the odd lack of cigarette smoke and the way Darcy checked his pocket about every minute to make sure the envelope was still safely tucked away within it.

"How'd it go?" Richard hazarded, wanting to get to the bottom of the mystery of the envelope; he just hoped Darcy wouldn't clam up even more from his overly polite talk. He didn't expect a twinkle to enter Darcy's forlorn eyes, a happy crinkle forming around his eyes as a mirthless smile lit up his unshaven, pale features.

"She's quite the little spitfire. Elizabeth Bennet is something else." Darcy admitted tenderly. Even with the painful message he'd received and the horrible night in response to that, he still couldn't shake the warmness that invaded his body stemming from his stomach at the mere thought of Elizabeth. It was a first for him. All throughout the night, writing his letter, Darcy hadn't thought any loathing comments about Elizabeth; instead, all he could remember were the times he'd made her laugh like no tomorrow and just how adorable she was. It was an understatement, truly, that Elizabeth Bennet was "something else."

"I take it she turned you down?" Richard pulled a face, still not fully believing it. Not once had he seen Darcy get turned down, especially if the woman Darcy was asking out was from a lower economic level than he.

"Yes, she did… and then some. Elizabeth Bennet is something else." Darcy repeated his words, putting a heavy emphasis on them, letting Richard know that he didn't want to talk about it in detail. He could have dealt without the low whistle Richard emitted, but Darcy remained silent, lost in his own world. The silence, perfectly calm on one side while the other writhed mentally with anxiety, remained between the two until they reached their apartment.

"I'm going to Pemberley. Will you be joining me, Dick?" Darcy inquired gently, struggling to get his frosty shoes off with numb fingers. Richard shrugged, heading into the kitchen to brew some tea because, in spite of Darcy's claim that he'd already had coffee, he figured Darcy needed something to warm him up.

"Eventually. Aunt Catty wants us for Christmas, and isn't Chuckie hosting a New Years bash?" Richard said noncommittally, just thankful Darcy had yet to fall into the muteness that was his wont when something didn't go his way. He could still remember the exact number of years, months and days Darcy had once not spoken even one word, and the number was fresh on his mind. From the way Darcy was venerating the envelope in his pocket, whose contents he was still unsure of, Richard could guess that the number was in the forefront of Darcy's mind, too.

"I'll be spending the holidays with Gee and Mrs. Reynolds; send Aunt Catty my best wishes if you stay with her. I don't think Charlie will be inviting me to his party." Darcy admitted, scowling as he had to settle for wiggling out of his shoes, unable to untie them. He peeled off his socks next, watching the thin sheets of ice that had formed on them break instantaneously instead of Richard's surprised face.

"If you're not with Aunt Catty and Anne, there's no way I'm staying with them; she's been unbearable since she realized you were with another woman instead of 'spending some quality time with your future spouse.' Why wouldn't he? You're best mates and have been since he was taller than you." Richard said, hoping he'd succeeded in keeping some of his shock from his voice. He failed miserably.

"She's going to have to accept I don't want to marry Anne. Charlie… Jane is pregnant. She misinterpreted my words when I asked them if they'd thought of having an abortion since she knows I'm against them having a child right now." Darcy sighed, heading into his room to change from his wet, freezing clothes. Richard followed him, leaving the pot of boiling water on the stove, leaning in the doorway.

"You know Aunt Catty won't until she has to 'politely' refuse your invitation to your wedding where Anne won't be the blushing bride – that, or go and scowl her way through the wedding and try to make the bride change her mind in more than once. Well, that was bloody stupid of her. Jane doesn't really know you at all, does she?" Richard commented, even though he could see Jane's point of view and why she had jumped to that conclusion. Although Darcy was not the most sociable person, he thoroughly respected human life; it was the reason so many of his past girlfriends had tried to get him to have unprotected sex with them. Brittney Parks, Darcy's second long-time girlfriend (the first being Leslie) that had actually received the key to his flat in London, had, ironically, gotten the closest to pulling it off. (1) In truth, Brittney had gotten Darcy drunk, slept with him, and then tried to blackmail him into marrying her because she was "pregnant." When Darcy found out she wasn't really carrying his child, the next time he saw Brittney's face, he dealt with her harshly and changed the locks to his flat.

"_If_ I ever get married, that is. It's looking like I won't, considering my sparse past romantic life. No, Jane doesn't since Charlie always seeking my council and adhering to whatever I say puts her off. Whatever I say, Jane is prone to take the opposite side… I don't think she's ever noticed it herself because I think it's a defiant subconscious act. Jane is everyone's little angel, after all… I can't see her being denied anything. Not that I blame her or think bad of her – I just think she's probably been unconsciously spoiled all her life." Darcy explained, shedding off his three layers of clothes in front of Richard. The tattoo right beneath his C7 vertebra, sitting right atop the T1 vertebra, seemed to shriek out at Richard when he saw the glimpse of it. (2) It was something most people wouldn't get, but Richard knew what it was and meant. In black ink set against the pale, not tanned skin of Darcy's back, the triskelion within a circle stood out like a sore thumb; not as noticeable, set in tiny, pale red numbers between the spirals and the containing circle were the birth and death dates of Darcy's parents and Mrs. Reynold's husband, Danny.

"Don't give me this 'if' bullocks, Crispy. Forget those lassies and focus on going forward, progressing… you do have that symbol on your back, anyways." Richard commented, having nothing to add anymore on the Jane subject. He couldn't really voice an honest opinion since he hadn't met Jane more than just a handful of times, all of them in the company of Darcy.

"Touché." Darcy let out a dry chuckle, reaching his right hand back to cover the triskel with his fingers. He had been progressing and growing stronger… what was one more set back?

Only… it just didn't feel like his past shambles of a relationship…

It felt like more.

- (Crappy break line) -

Heavy streams of white, condensing air burst forth from Elizabeth's lips, tainting the gray sky with its pristine innocence. She laughed like she didn't care, chasing her younger cousins around the absolutely tiny front yard covered in two inches of snow, ducking when an errant snowball came her way. Elizabeth moistened her drying lips, tasting the copper tang of blood on her lower lip courtesy of an ice ball she hadn't been lucky enough to dodge. Connor, the one responsible for her fat lip, had been grounded and was watching the fun from one of the front windows looking like he would die.

"Its cowld!" Noelle chirped, face ruddy and shining from exertion; she took a mighty sniff after speaking, trying to stop her nose from running.

"'Course it is, Snow." James said, rolling a compact snowball in his small hands to throw at Shane.

"Know what might make you warmer?" Elizabeth whispered, crouching down next to her youngest cousin; Bonnie, who had been making a snow-angel, clamored up from the ground and joined the pair.

"What?" Noelle asked quietly, eyes wide in wonder. Elizabeth grinned impishly, pointing over to the boys.

"Ambushing them." She said, gathering up some snow to make a snowball. Compared to the ones her cousins could make, Elizabeth's were far inferior in quality since it was her first time playing in snow that was abundantly lying about on the ground. Noelle, who didn't know what "ambushing" meant, correctly deduced Elizabeth wanted to barrage her brothers with snowballs.

"You don do it wight!" Noelle shriek-whispered, an adorable pout forming on her little lips as she sat down and made a snowball that was actually spherical and not a misshapen… thing.

"I make, you amboosh." Noelle ordered, handing Elizabeth the small snowball. Elizabeth laughed at the mispronunciation, nodding all the same; the trio of girls waited until Noelle, who made excellent, albeit tiny, snowballs, had made a nice pile of snowballs to "amboosh" her brothers with. Connor, who could see what the girls were doing, started beating on the window in a vain attempt to warn Shane and James.

"Chaaarge!" Bonnie caterwauled, wielding her weapons of mass destruction, making a mad dash to James and Shane with Elizabeth right behind her. The boys screamed and ran from the onslaught coming from the girls, trying to make a counter-attack while simultaneously fleeing. Mariabella and Eadbard, summoned by Connor banging furiously on the window, saw what disadvantage their boys were at and let Connor out to help Shane and James by making snowballs for them. The all-out war went on heatedly, each side giving no mercy, until Mariabella called her brood in to warm them up.

"Truce until after lunch, okay?" Mariabella's voice was light, but every single warrior in the snowball war knew by her visage that she meant that, if a truce wasn't struck and kept, heads would roll.

"Aye, Mum, we hear ya." James spoke for both sides, trooping inside first with Noelle stumbling in after him. Unbeknownst to the Gardiners and Elizabeth, a man sighed, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel of his car before starting it up and pulling out of the quaint neighborhood when all the soldiers went inside.

"Is Izzy's prince comin', Mummy?" Bonnie asked while Mariabella wiped Noelle's nose for her. Elizabeth stiffened, memories of the previous night rushing back to her with rapid succession. She knew Darcy had taken her home, but she hadn't realized Bonnie had been awake at the time. Elizabeth also hadn't thought he'd be so presumptuous as to call himself her prince after the fight they'd had.

"No, he's off fighting dragons right now." Mariabella answered carefully, hoping Bonnie didn't delve deeper into the subject. Even without looking at her niece, she knew it was a sensitive topic for Elizabeth.

"Oooo, what kinda dragons? Will he come back for Izzy after he's defeateded them?" Bonnie pressed for details, a bright smile on her face.

"It's 'defeated', Bonnie; he defeat_ed_ the dragons. They're big ones with green eyes and stinky cheese breath." Elizabeth replied to Bonnie's new inquiry, smiling slightly. After the one time they'd eaten spaghetti, she hadn't let Darcy live it down that the stinky cheese he put on his spaghetti made his breath smell (for revenge, Darcy had chased her around Central Park trying to breath in her face after they had left his apartment). The Darcy she remembered was so scary… and so right about the flirting; Elizabeth felt terrible about that.

Mariabelle, finished with cleaning Noelle's face, watched Elizabeth curiously while Eadbard herded the triplets, who were disgusted with the talk of princes, into the kitchen to get their sandwiches and hot chocolate. From what Eadbard had told her, Darcy had struck out, badly, but Elizabeth was bizarrely talking pleasantly of him.

"Will he be handsome after he defeats them and come back for you?" Bonnie asked, repeating her question again because of the lack of a response. She was starry-eyed; Elizabeth's prince sounded so amazing to her petite ears.

"Huh?" Elizabeth blinked, confounded. Bonnie had seen Darcy before, and even though she called him old, Bonnie had to have realized he was handsome. There was no way Bonnie would mistake Darcy for Eadbard, moreover (and Eadbard wasn't ugly, either!).

"Yer prince said he wasn't handsome right now… said he was like Beast 'cause he had an error of his ways that _I_ needed to fix!" Bonnie giggled, recalling the words from the man that had haunted her dreams. Diminutive rosebuds bloomed over her cheeks and she squirmed a bit like a child who knew a secret and wasn't going to tell it… or a little girl with a crush.

Elizabeth, at a loss for words, turned to her aunt for help. It was all so very confusing, and she just didn't want to think about it anymore. Elizabeth would rather forget about Darcy's proposal and only remember their untainted friendship; it wasn't like they'd see each other again, not after a fight like that. Oh, sure, she might see him in a magazine or something if anything major happened with his company, but seeing Darcy's picture was a totally different thing than seeing him in the flesh.

Elizabeth wasn't sure what her aunt told the little girl to drop the subject, but she was grateful for it. She was happy to follow her younger cousins into the kitchen amongst their chorus of, "Hot chocolate! Hot chocolate!" (although Noelle's mantra sounded like, "Hawt chocwat! Hawt chocwat!"). The triplets already had eaten a good portion of their sandwiches when the girls joined them, and Shane was sporting a rather fantastic hot chocolate mustache that he was quite proud of.

"Look'it my mustache! Bet'cha can't top it!" Shane sniggered, puckering his lips in attempt to show his mustache off better.

"Can sow!" Noelle chirped, climbing up into a chair. As she started banging on the table for a mug of hot chocolate from her father, Bonnie turned to Elizabeth and took Elizabeth's hand between her two much smaller ones.

"Yer prince… he's comin' back. He sounded sad… sorry. He sounded sorry. He's goin' ta defeat the dragons and come back for you lookin' like Prince Adam." Bonnie confided, her blush becoming darker. Surrounded by the chaotic noise of Eadbard admonishing Noelle plus Mariabella trying to separate the fight between Shane and James that had sprouted from Shane bragging over his mustache, Elizabeth almost misheard Bonnie; she somewhat wished she had. Because, of all the things set for from Pandora's box, hope was the cruelest in the sense that it could be proven wrong.

Spouted forth from a star-struck, doe-eyed child, Elizabeth tried to stamp out the kindling starting to flicker in her heart based on Bonnie's words, but she just couldn't with the prospect of being able to laugh with the man who had transformed from a cold, apathetic person to one of her best friends. Even with their fight fresh on her mind, Elizabeth couldn't help but to still long for the one embrace that never failed to comfort her.

- (Crappy break line) -

Darcy looked quite defeated, one long leg drawn up to his chest as he rested the side of his face against the ice cold car window. It was a pose he knew well from seeing Elizabeth do it all the time – that, or with both of her legs up. She had always been curled up, so small and vulnerable-looking. His eyes strayed from the frozen cityscape of downtown New York to the thick envelope sitting in the passenger's seat addressed to "Aunt Mari" on the front in a slapdash version of his handwriting.

Darcy was stumped. He didn't want to accidentally run into Elizabeth when delivering the letter because she'd want to know what it contained; also, he was pretty sure he'd try to hug the life out of her since he didn't get to say "good-bye," officially. That would be quite unsightly of him, and Elizabeth had a boney knee he knew she wouldn't hesitate to ram into… _a sensitive area_ of his should she want to (which Darcy figured she would most definitely would). Darcy also couldn't wait until Elizabeth left for Meryton because of two reasons: 1. He didn't know the exact date she was leaving and 2. because of one, he wasn't sure if he'd be in Pemberley by then or not.

Stymied, Darcy returned his gaze onto to poor souls freezing their bums off walking hurriedly along the sidewalk to whatever destination they were going to. His stomach gave an almighty growl, but Darcy paid no heed. Having spent his lunch hour seeing if Elizabeth would leave the Gardiner abode, he hadn't eaten a morsel and spent the rest of the workday living off of energy drinks. Now, hours later as rush hour was finally dying down, Darcy refused to eat until he found a solution for his problem. He couldn't wait until she came back from her semester in Europe; that would defeat the purpose of the letter (and, by then, she might have forgotten about him!)…

Elizabeth's semester in Europe, that was it!

Rejuvenated, Darcy pulled the rental car away from the curb, heading in the direction of Elizabeth's campus. What was that girl's name? Emily? Emma? Something like that. She was the pretty little blond girl that, for some reason, had thought his name was Christopher. Although Darcy didn't know her, the girl knew Elizabeth and would be in her company while Elizabeth was studying abroad. The girl wouldn't be Aunt Mari, but she could work…

… Possibly…

… Hopefully…

Darcy cursed his inner pessimistic monologue, trying to convince himself that a girl who wouldn't let a man looking for Elizabeth see her because the girl thought Elizabeth was interested in someone else would do him this favor. It was somewhat like matchmaking… not really… or, well, not putting him and Elizabeth together but possibly Elizabeth and someone else. Darcy didn't want to think about some other European lad getting his Elizabeth, but it had to be done. He had no right to Elizabeth's affections, and she'd told him, "No."

… That didn't mean it didn't hurt, though, thinking about the possibilities of him not being there by her side.

Darcy was in a melancholy state by the time he made it to the complex. He took in many things he hadn't the time before, like how the carpet's coloring made the patterns it in disappear as he walked to the stairwell instead of taking the elevator. Darcy paused a minute to read the progressing graffiti decorating the fifth floor's walls, starting from a scratched out lecherous drawing to someone writing, "GAAAAAY," in black Sharpie. He noticed the gum, stationed like tally marks in a prison wall, stuck to the wall of the eleventh story's walls. On the thirteenth, he would have taken the time to pick up the slightly moldy paper nacho bowl and soda can had he known were the nearest trashcan was.

Darcy took a deep breath before leaving the stairwell, heading straight for the door numbered 1815 in peeling gold paint. It might have been a few seconds or a few minutes as he stared listlessly at the door, wondering if he was making the right decision, before he knocked. Darcy waited with baited breath, head ducked slightly to inspect the carpet while he waited for the door to be answered. It was he same carpet as in the lobby, a myriad of browns placed in a complex pattern that was lost in the slight shade differences. There was a stain right before the door; perhaps a drink of some sorts had spilled. As Darcy was just trying to figure out what drink might have made the stain, the door opened, revealing an average-sized man with brown hair and blue eyes; he looked a few years older than Darcy himself. His dark clothes were splattered with patches of white, like flour or sugar, and his mouth was smudged with a thick brown paste. Darcy figured he didn't look much neater, knowing he had snow melting on his jacket and trickling down his back like cold sweat.

An awkward pause ensued as each man eyed the other up, equally confused. George was puzzled because he hadn't the slightest idea why another man would be calling upon Emma at such a late hour while Darcy was unsure if he'd remembered the right apartment number or not since he was looking for Elizabeth's blond friend.

"Can I… help you?" George asked, offering a smile to Darcy as he looked up. While George didn't know Darcy, he could see a tired man, and George wasn't one to turn away anyone in need (even though it wasn't his apartment).

"I'm looking for Em… Elizabeth's friend?" Darcy voiced his sentence as a question, ears burning; he really hoped he hadn't gotten the wrong number. He also wished he could remember the girl's name and wondered if 'Em' was even a part of it.

"Little Lizzie?" George's eyes lit up with recognition as he thought back to the short but impish girl he'd been introduced to not long before. Emma had informed him Elizabeth had "something complicated" going on with Fitzwilliam "Crispy" Darcy… George made a closer inspection of Darcy. Although Darcy's hair had been cut, his face was undeniably the one from Google Images that Emma had shown George.

"She's a fun girl. Are you using Emma as a go-between? Em would love that, but please try not to encourage her much. I don't need her running around as a matchmaker again, not after Rob and Harriet." George laughed, opening the door wider and ushering Darcy in. He offered to take Darcy's coat, scarf and beanie but was politely rejected; George was about to call for Emma when the girl herself appeared, untying her pink apron from around her waist.

"Kni—oh. Hello, Crispy! I'm so, so, _so_ sorry for turning you away last time; I didn't know who you were then. I thought you were one of Lizzie's admirers, the ones she never sees nor believes she has, that had figured out when our party was." Emma grinned brightly at Darcy. She, too, had white smatterings decorating her clothes and the brown substance in finger-sized streaks on her cheeks, temple, and forehead.

Darcy turned paler for two reasons: first, because he hadn't known Elizabeth had "admirers" and, second, because he understood what he'd interrupted. From their similar messy appearances, Darcy could infer that he'd interrupted a couple baking (and snogging) together on their free Saturday night.

"It's fine. I'm sorry if this is a bad time, I can—"

"No! No, no, no, it's perfect timing. George, could you go watch the oven and make sure the brownies don't burn?" Emma interrupted, waving off Darcy's apology. She pulled Darcy to the couch while George left, waiting patiently for him to start; after a few minutes of Darcy being mute, Emma broke the ice because she wasn't really that patient when matchmaking, or the prospect of it, was involved.

"Has Lizzie given you your present yet?" Emma inquired, intertwining her fingers in her lap. Unknowingly, she'd just shattered the ice with a jackhammer.

"Yes… she has. The art is very good. I… you've noticed how… this is going to sound weird…" Darcy trailed off, suddenly realizing he hadn't thought anything through. He'd come up with the whole conversation for delivering the letter to Mariabella, not to a girl he didn't even know. Darcy wasn't sure of how much Emma knew or how much Elizabeth wanted her to know.

"I know Lizzie has feelings for you, and I'm hoping you like her, too. I know Lizzie won't be the easiest person to ask out, but if you do it delicately and make it sound like a friendly outing instead of a date, she'd agree to go." Emma shrugged, hoping this information would help Darcy know how to begin. It didn't, not really; rather, it distracted him completely form the topic at hand.

"_I know Lizzie has feelings for you_…"

It made sense, in a way, from how violently she'd set off. However, Darcy didn't think those feelings would remain for very long, especially not after the way he'd confessed.

"You've noticed how she… not exactly rejects but doesn't accept that men actually _do_ find her attractive?" Darcy didn't look at Emma. He knew why Elizabeth was in denial, but he wasn't sure if Elizabeth had told Emma. Considering all Elizabeth listened to from her mother growing up, he could completely understood her internal problem. Even if you didn't believe it at first, if one is told they're not wanted nor will ever be, one will eventually start to doubt themselves. Darcy knew the only reason he started smoking was because of Wickham telling him constantly that he would always be a goody-two-shoes.

"Yeah. I think it's because she didn't have many true friends." Emma said, failing to mention that she'd basically just said that. If this was where Darcy had to start, she wasn't going to cut him off even if he was just duplicating her words in his own way; he'd get to the point in his own time, she hoped. Darcy, on the other hand, now knew how much he could delve into and was eternally grateful that he hadn't included many of Elizabeth's past, the parts she kept mostly to herself, in his letter to Mariabella.

"She's got a low self-esteem in that area, yes. I… preyed upon it, in a way, and she's shut me out. May I entrust this to you?" Darcy pulled the envelope from his pocket. Slightly hunched over, when he held it out to offer it to Emma, he unconsciously held it in front of his heart; it was trembling slightly since he hadn't had anything to energize himself since the stale cup of coffee he'd finished around four. Emma took the envelope slowly, narrowing her bright blue eyes at it; though the ink was smudged or running in a few places, it clearly was addressed to "Aunt Mari." She looked to Darcy questioningly.

"Originally, I was going to give this to Aunt Mari, but since I don't want to run into Elizabeth and you'll be with her in Europe, I'm handing it to you now. Inside is a note to Aunt Mari, which you are allowed to read, but I ask you to please not read the letter addressed to Elizabeth." Darcy explained, standing up to leave; he placed his hands in his pockets, feeling the cold emptiness within.

"It explains what I want to convey. Thank you for your time." Darcy said, refusing all offers Emma made to join her and George when the brownies were done. He didn't want to intrude more on what he knew had to be a couple spending quality time with each other. Darcy took the stairs down again, mentally going over the restaurants still open that were near by, finally listening to the snarls coming from his empty stomach.

He ended going to the pizza place filled with rowdy college students. Even though his stomach was saying otherwise, Darcy didn't eat much, only nibbling at the appetizer of pepperoni pizza bites (that were so not bites but more like pockets) he'd ordered. It wasn't that they weren't good; it was just he wasn't in the mood for eating. In the crowd of younger people, Darcy could see couples of every kind, sharing pizza or lasagna, stealing kisses whenever they wanted to. It made him wonder, had Elizabeth grown up in a different, more positive environment, would she be like these scantily clad, promiscuous girls? Darcy wasn't sure if his view of the girls was biased, either, considering he was in a different generation on top of growing up in a different environment. Darcy sighed, shaking his head. He wasn't going to play the "what if" game, especially not if it wasn't him thinking, "What if I hadn't been such a poxy bastard and just thought about what I wanted to say before asking Elizabeth to go out with me?"

- (Crappy break line) -

The paper burned in Emma's hand. Her heart raced even though she had yet to open the envelope. With Darcy gone, it seemed alien to her with the unfamiliar handwriting on the front bearing someone else's name. It almost was like she was reading someone else's mail without permission.

"Pretty awkward guy."

George's voice made Emma jump. She hadn't realized he'd come back into the den and stood behind the couch, which she'd sat back down on.

"Well… this is a pretty awkward situation, considering." Emma intoned, defending Darcy. She knew George wasn't serious in his teasing, but she felt the need to stick up for Darcy all the same. Whatever he'd done to Elizabeth by "preying upon" her low self-esteem, he obviously felt sorry for. No man out for unjust revenge would look that haggard and hopeless. A certain gentleness had overcome his apathetic features, too, when he spoke of Elizabeth, so Emma knew for certain the words the letter contained couldn't be loathsome ones.

"Besides, you're supposed to be watching the oven, Mister!" Emma snapped, swatting George away so she could read the letter without him over her shoulder. Normally, Emma wouldn't care, but this letter didn't contain her business. Only after she'd read and ascertained what Darcy wanted her to do would she let George see any part of the paper, if at all. Emma slit the envelope open with her finger, sliding it carefully for reasons she wasn't sure of; she shook the contents into her lap, revealing another smaller, origami envelope and a note. The improvised envelope had the word, "Kitten," written in impeccably neat, type-writer like handwriting that looked worldly different than the script depicting "Aunt Mari" on the first envelope. Emma held back a laugh as she traced the endearment with her index finger, trying to imagine how it had ever come about and Elizabeth's initial reaction to such an adorable nickname.

Emma took a few minutes imagining all sorts of situations and reactions until she was content with her romantic fantasies; after that, she carefully put Elizabeth's letter aside to read the note that had originally been intended for Mariabella but now fell into her hands. Spelling mistakes dotted the page, as well as many blacked-out words and sentences of which the frequency progressed further down the page one went; on top of the man-made errors was the added disturbance of running ink caused by water damage. It was truly a chaotic note written in poor writing, but it was, however, just barely legible.

"_Dear Aunt Mari,_

"_I'm terribly sorry for this inconvenienc. I would hand the letter addressed to Elizabeth straight to her, however, I doubt shee would be receptive. I don't want thiis letter to be thrown out automatically, burnt, cut/torn up, et cetera; I'd like her to read iit. I'll explain more in this note, but I have a few favors to ask of you. I'm not trying to bee presumptuous and telll you how to raise Elizabeth, but I havee raised my sister who has thee same problems. I'm giving friendly advise I hope you dont take the wrong way."_

Emma rubbed her chin ponderously, trying to use her wild imagination to come up with the scenario when Elizabeth would blackball Darcy from even handing her a letter. It wasn't a normal occurrence since Elizabeth was generally gregarious, if a bit reserved in some situations. Considering how much Elizabeth unconsciously talked about Darcy, Emma highly doubted that Elizabeth would do this under light circumstances. She also noted how cautious Darcy was being and knew that had to be Elizabeth's doing. From all the errors, Emma figured that Darcy, who had appeared quite confident to her, must have been really struck by whatever Elizabeth had said to him, and it had to be super effective when he was tired and guilt-ridden.

"_Gee, my sister, is legallly blind and strugggled with her own insekurities as she grew up. I wasnt much help until it got_ bad. _It' best to bee genteel when trying to adjust a selt-esteeme liek theres_. _Do litttle sujestions when you think is bestt… make shure she knows that males do look at her… becase she is a beautiful young woman. Start offf slow to test the waterss first… then do iit on a daily bases. I'm shure youve already tryed to start to correct that womans misteaks… and im not…_"

The "t" in "not" dragged for a bit, like Darcy had nodded off while crossing it. Emma wasn't sure what Darcy meant by "that woman's mistakes," but she reckoned it had to deal with why Elizabeth was so obstinate that men never looked at her as something other than "one of the guys" or as "that chick over there next to that gorgeous chick." George joined Emma then on the couch bearing a pale full of brownies.

"I'm not going to look… just delivering some of the products of our hard work." George laughed, winking at the end. Emma smiled at him, giggling; hard work, indeed. They'd played more than they'd worked.

"Thank you, Knight." Emma said gratefully, kissing George's cheek and taking a brownie from the plate, nibbling on the corner. She cuddled into his side when George turned on the News much like Elizabeth had burrowed into Darcy's side many times before. George wrapped his arm around Emma, resting his cheek on the top of her soft blond hair, sighing with a silly, deliriously blissful smile on his face.

"… _tryng to tel you how to help Elizabeth. Im reelly not. I just dont want… shes a special girl. I want her to know this. Could you doo me a nother favorr and try to convay how sorrry i am? I wasnt clear and Elizabeth got hurt from itt. Thank you._

_Sinserly,_

_Fitzwilliam C. Darcy_"

"It was just a miscommunication?" Emma blurted out at the end of the note, astonished… and yet, not surprised at all. Words were very powerful things, and if Elizabeth felt like Darcy had betrayed her, Emma knew Elizabeth would lash out. Emma made a mental note to call Elizabeth in the morning, tucking Darcy's note back into the envelope along with his letter to Elizabeth.

"Well, think about us, Em. You were mad at me for a miscommunication…" George murmured, giving his girlfriend a light squeeze. Emma had been furious with him, thinking he had asked Harriet out on a date, when he had, in fact, just asked her out to coffee when the young woman was feeling despondent.

"Well, yeah…" Emma huffed, puffing out her cheeks in defeat. If she thought about it, Emma was sure many couples broke up or didn't get together because of a few misheard words, however, she didn't want to think about such disheartening things when George was over. Scooching closer to George, Emma's eyes glazed as the weather woman prattled on about the snow to come, mind occupied with ways she could subtly get Elizabeth to comprehend that men did, if truth be told, look at her like Darcy had written.

- (Crappy break line) -

"Lizzie, look at you, you look horrible coming from the big hubbub of a city like New York! Why didn't you call, you stupid girl? Your father could have gone to pick you up!"

Elizabeth smiled, taking a deep breath as she entered the cluttered, overcrowded building she'd called "home" as a child. Surrounded by houses that could have been identical save for the extra room or second floor, it was unimpressive and boring, but it was still her childhood home. It still housed Elizabeth's parents and younger sister.

Elizabeth knew he mother's words rang false. The Austin airport she'd landed in was well over an hour away, and she had had to take a taxi then a bus to get home. If she'd called from the airport, if anyone other than Wayne had answered, she would have been told that it was a waste of precious gas (because look at those gas prices! With that gas-guzzling truck Wayne bought, it would break the bank at $3.42 a gallon!) and that she should catch a ride somewhere. However, when Fatina wanted to go shopping with Lydia or Kathy, that ride was a "necessity."

On the way from the airport to her parent's house, Elizabeth had stared listlessly at the dust-kissed roads and parking lots devoid of the crowds she'd grown accustomed to seeing. The weather, while not the normal scorching heat, felt warm on her skin since she'd just come from a white city.

"Go put some pants on, young lady! And where is your sweater? Wayne! WAYNE! Come look at your hoodlum daughter wearing shorts in winter!" Fatina busied herself speed walking in a circle around Elizabeth, scrutinizing and evaluating. Not a hair was out of place, but compared to the two girls coming form their rooms, she could find plenty to compare and complain about. Lydia and Kathy were wearing designer jeans; Elizabeth was wearing cut-off shorts that were entirely too long (because, to Fatina, shorts should be no longer than the front pockets, not almost to one's knees). Lydia and Kathy were wearing Hollister or Abercrombie sweaters; Elizabeth was wearing a babydoll that, while it complimented her figure, made her look fat compared to the skin and bone frames Lydia and Kathy had. Lydia and Kathy had nice designer shoes on; Elizabeth had a pair of ratty Chucks. Lydia and Kathy wore make-up and nice jewelry; Elizabeth's face was clear of make-up and only had a simple silver-colored necklace on. Yes, there was much to criticize the daughter that had a mind of her own and didn't listen to Fatina's fashion statements.

"There's my Lizzie-boo."

"Liz, did you get us pressies?"

"Bitch, you better have gotten us presents."

The three cries came simultaneously, making Elizabeth smile again at the familiarity of the scene she'd thought she'd forget while in New York. Wayne was warm and welcoming, of course, because she was the only one that hadn't turned into a mini-Fatina (whom had changed drastically since marrying Wayne). Kathy was trying to pull off the fake cute attitude, even going as far as giving Elizabeth a hug after Wayne pulled away from the bear-hug he'd given his eldest daughter. Lydia, lastly, was showing her true colors as an egomaniac with a potty-mouth because she was "cool" and "popular."

Elizabeth accepted all of this, wearing a smile that stretched almost painfully across her teeth, pulling her bags further into the house and dumping them on the couch. After she'd pulled the wrapped presents (which were not Christmas presents – no, these were "away from home" presents on normally got when vacationing) from the recesses of her duffle bag, Lydia and Kathy disappeared, complaining about having to share a room again loudly. They had grown fond of their separate rooms, because Lydia had moved into Elizabeth's room after Elizabeth had officially "moved out," and were vainly hoping their vociferous remarks would get Elizabeth sent to the couch for the duration of her visit. Wayne was adamant that Elizabeth get her old room back when she visited, and Fatina couldn't change his mind for once… especially since they needed the couch for Christmas decorations.

Amidst Lydia's grumbling and orders not to touch this, that, and especially not _this_, Elizabeth dropped her bags off in her old room that had been re-painted and covered with things Lydia liked (like One Direction and Calvin Klein model posters), making it unrecognizable to her. After making sure the luggage locks were closed around her bags so Lydia couldn't come back and root through her clothes, Elizabeth joined her father in his study, selecting a book from the bookshelf.

"Welcome home, Lizzie-boo." Wayne's words didn't match his expression. His face was set up in a tender way, eyes crinkling with what one might assume was joy that his favorite daughter was home; his words, though, fell almost flat. Too tired to argue, too tired to even feel anymore, Wayne was no longer the man Elizabeth once knew and looked up to. He was a shell of his former self, energy sucked out day by day to be consumed by a woman who had grown an inferiority complex in a town she thought was beneath her.

"Thanks, Daddy. It feels like home." Elizabeth's actions mirrored her fathers in a way. Her expression, to someone who knew her, was depressed while her words were filled with delight. Because he'd long ago stopped actually knowing who his daughters and wife were, Wayne didn't notice; all he took in was that Elizabeth was, somehow, glad to be home. It made his smile lovelier, less fake.

Elizabeth curled up on the beanbag chair kept in Wayne office just for her, opening the cover to a dog-eared copy of And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie. It his her when she got to the second chapter. Like numerous times recently, Elizabeth was unable to concentrate while she replayed Darcy's words in her head.

"Unhealthy" didn't even begin to cover it.

**A/N**: (_1) Remember her? I had to go search for her name, lol. She's the "__gold-digging, near-sighted, fat, desperate slut" from chapter 7. :)_

_(2) You know that little bone that (probably) sticks out from your neck? That's the C7 vertebra. The one right beneath it (which may not stick out for some people) is the T1 vertebra._

_I'm sorry! -hides- Don't hate me, please. ;n; I'm actually gaining a life! Sort of… not really… more like becoming a slave to school. I'm an officer in the SHH and got accepted into NHS, so I'll be doing tons of work with those. Between tennis and HW, I can't write on weekdays, and I'm able to write maybe every other weekend, depending on what is going on for SHH/NHS and school projects. I'm thinking I'll update once a month or so. I'm sorry, again!_

_~ Tobi_


	14. Right?

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: My initials have JA in them…  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Cvtperez<span>: Thank you. C: I really hope so, too.  
><span>Ladysilver11<span>: I think I know what you mean, lol. Thank you! :D  
><span>MidnightReadingAddict<span>: Aw shucks, thank you – I love you guys, too. :) Lol, I won't be building hopping anytime soon… I'm not Superman/Captain Underpants.  
><span>Amina<span>: He doesn't normally. When you're completely exhausted, your motor skills are hampered to an extent… words blend together, etc. Darcy was just really tired when he wrote the note.  
><span>HawkAngel XD<span>: Thank you. :) Why were you expecting something more formal?

**- … Right? -**

"Hey, Dad?" Elizabeth spoke softly, cradling a steaming mug of hot chocolate. It reminded her of her cousins up in New York and how they got along compared to her and her sisters. Sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd been born with different parents, she would have more friends… or, at least, she'd have the two permanent friends she was supposed to have, Lydia and Kathy. But, instead, she was stuck with a kiss-up and a girl who thought she was all that and more.

Treading carefully when she got no answer, Elizabeth saw her father was nose-deep in papers with a red grading pen trapped between his slightly crooked teeth. His fingertips, tinged black, were tapping thoughtfully against his chin as he went over a paper, glasses sliding down his nose ever so slightly. Elizabeth wondered if the dim lighting provided by his desk lamp was enough so that his eyesight wouldn't be hampered, but she didn't mention it. Instead, she just continued on into the room, sipping on her hot cocoa, reclining back in her beanbag chair. Wayne would notice her when he had time to, or so she told herself.

When her drink was no longer piping hot but instead bone cold and only dregs of it remained, Elizabeth got to her feet, ready to give up. She paused in the doorway on her way out, chewing on her lower lip; usually, she'd leave, but…

"Hey, Dad." Elizabeth spoke louder in a more persistent manner. Again, she got not response whatsoever; instead of accepting it this time, she sat her mug down loudly on her father's desk, placing a hand on his now miniscule stack of papers.

"Yes, Lizzie-boo?" Wayne looked up, eyes heavy against the bags beneath them. Elizabeth almost backed out then with a, "Nothing," but she took a deep breath and shrugged.

"If… um, what is it like to _like_ something?" Elizabeth's voice was quiet, almost too soft for Wayne's old ears to hear. He took his pen from betwixt his teeth, fiddling with it as he watched, fascinated by the pink blooming over his daughter's cheeks. Wayne had never seen her so… _shy_ before. It was humbling to know she'd still come to him after all the things he didn't do but should have.

"Like a boy, perhaps?" Wayne smiled gently, wanting to laugh at the irony. Of course, the only thing Elizabeth would need help with was the one thing he'd so long ago forgotten. The slight blush that dappled her cheeks told Wayne his assumption was correct, and he found himself trying to imagine the type of young man Elizabeth would fancy. For the life of him, Wayne couldn't. He'd never met any of Elizabeth's past boyfriends (or male friends, for that matter), and he'd never seen her put up posters of famous males like Lydia and Kathy. Wayne wouldn't know the first thing about his daughter's preferences in the opposite sex, and he found that fact rather stirring.

"What's the young man look like, Lizzie-boo? Does he happen to have a name?" Wayne inquired, leaning back in his chair thoughtfully. He was going to change the sad fact of not knowing any of Elizabeth's friends, save for Charlotte, or her interests other than academic ones. Heck, Wayne didn't even know what Elizabeth wanted to do with her life; all he knew was that she enjoyed English!

Elizabeth looked up at her father, surprised since he'd never asked questions before. Her mouth opened, she knew, but no words spilled forth; her eyes darted around nervously as she tried to think of what to say, exactly, to her father.

"Sit down, Lizzie-boo." Wayne smiled softly, gesturing to her beanbag chair. He watched Elizabeth warily sit down, as if she didn't want to make any noise at all, and contemplated on what kind of man could provoke this kind of reaction from his usually vociferous daughter that was never at a loss for words. Wayne scrutinized Elizabeth chew her lower lip in meditation, drawing her knees up to her chest as she got comfortable. His eyes followed her fingers as they drew little nonsensical patterns into her pajama pants, the ones Wayne clearly remembered buying from the discount bin after Halloween had passed two years previous as a gag gift. The pants were black cotton decorated with a smattering of cartoon ghosts laughing merrily. Wayne could still envision Elizabeth's face opening the poorly wrapped package at Midnight on Christmas, how exultant it had become as she started to laugh… Wayne's heart ached for the times when he actually knew his so-called favorite daughter. It was looking like he might have to give Elizabeth away without even knowing who the groom was prior to the wedding!

That thought jarred Wayne sharply form his musings. His smile turned downward slightly when he realized he was jumping to the silly, absolutely frivolous conclusions Fatina would if she heard a word about Elizabeth's… dilemma, for a lack of better words. Choosing to attempt not to think anymore, Wayne looked over Elizabeth again, noticing for the first time the shirt she was wearing. It was a black short-sleeved shirt reading "NIKE" in bold blue letters, and it was much too big for a women's t-shirt, let alone one of Elizabeth's petite size.

"How about you start with the basics, Lizzie-boo. Name, age, eye color, hair color, et cetera…" Wayne broke the silence when Elizabeth wouldn't. A spark has started, and he didn't want to get short with Elizabeth and scare her off. All he wanted to know was why she was wearing a man's shirt, and gently segueing into the topic was probably the best choice. Wayne was not happy that Kathy and Lydia were… well, "gardening tools," but he was at least aware of their habits and that they did it safely. Apparently, STDs were "so totes not cool," whatever that meant. Lydia and Kathy Wayne could tolerate having loose morals, but Elizabeth… his stomach boiled at the mere thought of her sleeping around. He'd raised her better than that! No man deserved his Lizzie-boo, including Wayne himself!

"Well, um…" Elizabeth wasn't sure if she should tell her father Darcy's real name. She wanted to keep him all to herself, but now that her father was making inquiries about her life again, she didn't want to shut him out and discourage it.

"His name is William…"

Wayne could see Elizabeth hesitate and wondered if she knew he was growing irate. He schooled his features to a calm, politely listening mask as she trudged on, meticulously choosing her words.

"He's, erm, twenty… twenty-four, I think." Elizabeth lied, unaware of the looming storm but knowing that, if she said Darcy's real age, something would blow up in her face over it. She didn't like the sick, twisting feeling stemming from her intestines, but she knew she had to lie. Besides, it wouldn't hurt them… she'd never see Darcy again. Elizabeth wasn't sure if she kept telling herself that for reassurance or just because she was a masochist.

"William's got gray eyes… kind of a silvery tinged with a tiny bit of blue, actually, and curly black hair. A bit long, but…" Elizabeth trailed off, blush darkening as she remembered that Darcy's head wasn't the only thing with dark curls. A giggle threatened to bubble up her throat as she remembered heckling him about his leg hair after she had noticed the peculiarity of it.

"He's usually real nice, a sweetie, when he's not intentionally being an as—a jerk, but even then... He's a hard nut to crack when you first meet him, though… His apologies are sincere, too." Elizabeth caught herself before she cursed in front of Wayne, remembering how he disliked it. Darcy didn't, either, if Elizabeth thought about it… in fact, if she recalled correctly, he'd never even cursed in front of her. Sure, he had used English cover-ups like "bullocks," but he'd never actually said the words deemed unfit for use in polite society. Darcy was a bit stodgy that way (and many others).

Wayne's eyes rested solely on the broad smile slowly spreading across Elizabeth's face, causing him to draw his lower lip between his teeth, an action she'd copied from him at a young age. From what Elizabeth said, he could deduce that "William" had done something to offend Elizabeth twice, once before when he'd apologized, and now, confusing her. Between the two times, Elizabeth and "William" must have grown close, Wayne assumed. But _how_ close…? Wayne's narrowed gaze slid from his daughter's contented face back to the Nike shirt swallowing her whole. It was large, even for a male; either "William" was huge in height or huge in girth. Thinking to the stereotypical "sweetie" to a girl, Wayne was leaning towards the latter. He didn't mind it either way, just as long as "William" hadn't touched Elizabeth in ways Wayne would consider inappropriate. Almost exactly like Emma had, Wayne was making a mental image of Elizabeth's supposed suitor without specifics and would be inherently stunned when he finally met the man in question.

"He's a big nerd, actually… and he's _way_ stubborn. William is also so freaking arrogant, but he prefers calling it 'confidence in himself.'" Elizabeth's eye rolled towards the heavens as she chuckled softly. The more she thought about him, the more she missed Darcy. In just a few short weeks, he'd become one of her best friends, and even with that ugly parting, she still wanted him. Besides, who else would be a cuddly pillow when she wanted to watch a "chic flick"? Certainly not Charlotte! Her boobs would get in the way, and she didn't radiate heat like Darcy did.

"I miss him, Dad." Elizabeth wasn't conscious of the words ever leaving her mouth, but she heard them, filled with all the nostalgic pains she was feeling.

"What did this 'William' fella do, Lizzie-boo?" Wayne was forced to ask, delaying him once again from getting to his desired topic. He'd skimped out on playing "comforting dad" for too long. In his mind, Wayne was resigned, but his visage showed no sign of it.

"I'm… not really sure. He's good with words… and I don't know if I can trust him." Elizabeth confessed, eyebrows quirking together. She could rehash almost the entire argument from The Fight, but really… all of it was her jumping to biased conclusions because of equally opinionated words of three other people. One she didn't know, the second she loathed, and the third was one of her best friends who didn't like Darcy, at all. But Jane had to have a reason for that, right? However, of all the time she'd spent with Jane, Elizabeth couldn't call to mind a solid reason for Jane to dislike Darcy so much.

"Obviously, you do." Wayne shook his head, rubbing at his eyes in a tired fashion. When he saw the palpable befuddlement on Elizabeth's face, he pointed to her shirt, his lips contorted into something between a smile and a disapproving frown. She looked down, a pout forming on her mouth. Elizabeth wished her father hadn't pointed out the shirt she'd purloined accidentally from Darcy. That, too, brought forth an agonizingly splendid memory with Darcy.

It happened about two weeks before The Fight in Darcy's apartment when he was cooking for her (again). It had been shepherd's pie that time with apple cobbler for dessert. Elizabeth had joined Darcy when he'd started doing the dishes, and that had turned into a water-cum-soap fight. With her choices being between Darcy's scrupulously folded and organized clothes and Richard's pile of clean, partly worn, and absolutely disgusting clothes, there wasn't any competition. From Darcy's clothes Elizabeth had borrowed the Nike shirt her father was having a fit over and a pair of blue running shorts that only fit her when she pulled the drawstring the tightest it would go. The only thing keeping those shorts up had been her hips, and they still hung down past her knees. She had accidentally stolen those, too, but they were up in New York.

"No, he just lent me this when my clothes – which were _not_ white, by the way – got wet. We were closer to his place than Aunt Mari's and Uncle Ed's." Elizabeth explained, unconsciously hugging herself, holding the shirt closer to her. She was gazing at her toes, wiggling them every now and then, instead of facing Wayne; it embarrassed her that he thought she and Darcy had… The thought made her cheeks flame and her heart pound against the prison bars that were her ribs. It also brought the memory of Darcy almost kissing her to the forefront of her mind's eye. Elizabeth could clearly visualize his slightly chapped lips parted to the point where she could see a tiny glint of his teeth tightly clenched around the tip of his tongue, the day's growth of stubble adorning his upper lip, the dim lighting playing long shadows across his cheek bones and highlighting the myriad of grays and hint of blue in his irises… Elizabeth rubbed her lips together, wondering for what might have been the hundredth time, what it was like kissing Darcy.

"You still trust him, though." Wayne said, disapproving frown melting away. Even with Elizabeth so uncertain, he could tell she liked "William." That much was obvious to him from all the reactions Elizabeth was giving.

"How could you know that?" Elizabeth inquired, defiant eyes finally locking onto her father's for the first time in a long while.

"You're close friends with 'William,' aren't you?" Wayne raised one eyebrow skeptically, as if he was daring her to deny it. Elizabeth blinked, her confusion back.

"That's different." Elizabeth declared, although she had a feeling Wayne was about to tell her, quite pointedly, that she was dead wrong. She was thrown for a loop when he only asked, "Is it?"

Elizabeth sat for five minutes in silence, bouncing the thought around in her head, trying to figure out what her father meant. It _had_ to be different. Friends were friends – they were disposable. They didn't matter and left you in the end, letting you find out they'd never liked you in the first place. Best friends came one in a million and were definite keepers. Family were the people you had to love, even though you weren't sure you did. Taking the extra step to become someone significant other… that was _completely_ different.

… Right?

"Elizabeth, do you love Charlotte?" Wayne questioned, leaning back in his chair once more, folding his hands over his stomach. It was a pose Elizabeth knew well; Wayne always took that posture when he was about to give a lecture.

"'Course I do." Elizabeth answered, knowing for a fact that, no matter how distant they'd become over the years, Wayne knew that. He knew Elizabeth would do anything for Charlotte.

"Do you trust Charlotte?" Wayne continued, nodding slowly. Elizabeth turned her posture even more defensive, pressing the lower half of her face into her thighs so only her eyes peeked out over her knees.

"Yeah." Elizabeth's voice was slightly muffled, but Wayne heard her all the same. Again, he nodded slowly.

"Charlotte is your best friend, correct?" Wayne intoned, knowing the answer already, just like his previous two inquiries.

"One of 'em, yeah." Elizabeth mumbled, eyebrows low over her eyes as she tried to figure out the answer before Wane provided it for her.

"And is your 'William' boy another one?" Wayne asked gently, his chair squeaking slightly as he transferred the direction of his weight forward to lean on his elbows on his desk, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

"He is. I can trust him with my body, and I do love him like a friend… But he can't have my heart nor can I trust him with it." Elizabeth protested, seeing the parallels but not wanting to bend to them. She didn't like being proven wrong.

"Why not? You've done it with boys you didn't even like before. Besides, he already technically has it - or a portion of it, anyways." Wayne shrugged as if he didn't care anymore, but Elizabeth knew better. It was just him making his point, akin to him saying, "Why are you still arguing?"

"They didn't matter; they were just stupid boys forced upon me by my so-called 'friends!' Crispy can't… he can't…" Elizabeth stopped, ears burning. She'd slipped in the heat of the moment, not wanting to admit that the way her heart was racing, pumping blood drastically fast around her body, was because she already knew that subconsciously. Elizabeth desperately wanted Wayne to be wrong.

"Because he has the power to hurt you, you're shoving him away. You don't want to admit to trusting him with your heart with more than friendship because you're scared of getting hurt. Elizabeth, you already love the boy, as you've said, and it's blatant to me that you 'like-like' him, too. I suspect this fight you had with him was a bit of a 'lover's spat', as well. If this boy is worth your feelings, he will contact you again." Wayne concluded, taking note of the different name Elizabeth had used. He gave her a few minutes to digest the new thought before pressing onward.

"How much have you lied to me, Elizabeth?" Wayne asked, sounding grave to his daughter.

"Just about his name… kind of… and his age." Elizabeth murmured, extremely mortified and apologetic. She sighed before continuing on, words spilling out quickly so that maybe, just _maybe_, Wayne might mishear her and hopefully not ask again. With the way things had been going, Elizabeth severely doubted that notion.

"His name… isFitzwilliamCrispinDarcy - Icallhim'Crispy'… and he's fiveyearsolder than what I originally said."

Wayne tried to understand the rushed words, he really did, but it all sounded like mumbo jumbo to him.

"What?"

Elizabeth sighed once again, swallowing audibly.

"His name is Fitzwilliam Crispin Darcy; I call him 'Crispy' because it annoys him – or it did at first, at least. He's not twenty-four but twenty-nine. Everything else was the honest truth, I swear." Elizabeth spoke slowly that time, pronouncing each word with purpose. The earnest expression on her face, or what Wayne could see of it from her eyes and eyebrows, won him over from questioning further. He didn't know who Darcy was, so it utterly bewildered him that Elizabeth would somewhat lie about her beau's name. Wayne could completely understand why Elizabeth had been reluctant at divulging Darcy's age since the gap between them was, at this point in Elizabeth's life, quite large.

"Crispy isn't a perv, Dad, promise. At first, he wouldn't give me the light of day… but then he changed. I don't know why, and I could say I don't care that he did, but I do. I'm glad… because I think he's a _really_ great guy." Elizabeth tried to reassure the doubts she was sure Wayne had when she only accomplished making herself rue the bad split up. She didn't doubt that The Fight resembled what some would call a "lover's spat," as her father had proposed, but unlike a normal "lover's spat," they hadn't been together romantically. Nor, Elizabeth figured, would they ever be.

"Then why not give him a chance, Lizzie-boo?" Wayne asked softly, sad gaze lingering on the head he wished he could caress lovingly to comfort but knew he had lost the right to years ago.

"I… don't know. He could hurt me badly if I tried." Elizabeth confessed, looking downward to complete the fetal position she'd been shifting into all night. Her head hurt, and her stomach was in knots. She was regretting even coming to her father at all for another opinion-slash-advice on the subject.

"What if he didn't?" Wayne prompted tenderly, crossing his fingers mentally. He wanted Elizabeth – and Kathy and Lydia, too – to find "the one"… but Elizabeth would never get there if she didn't try with the first guy she actually fancied. This Fitzwilliam Darcy could be Elizabeth's first experience in a real loving, caring relationship.

Elizabeth's head rose sharply, her amber eyes wide as if she'd never thought of that option before.

What… if… he… _didn't_?

- (Crappy break line) -

"Fitzwilliam Crispin Darcy, move your daft bum over here this instant!"

Darcy's head fell at the yell, vainly trying to hide himself within the group of workers he was with. They grinned and sniggered, elbowing him in the ribs. In a normal boss-employee relationship, this would be unacceptable, however, these were the men who watched Darcy grow up and had taught him how to work in the fields with them. All the personal workers on Pemberley were more like uncles, aunts, and cousins to Darcy than his real family in some cases.

"Go on, Little Darcy, the Missus has seen ya and wants ya." One of the older workers who had been around since before Darcy had been born, Barty Baumgart, chuckled, reaching up to pat Darcy's head roughly. Despite the fact Barty was a good six inches shorter than Darcy, he never failed to call him "Little Darcy" because Darcy had once been the child who followed his father everywhere, mimicking everything he did. The workers around then dubbed Darcy "Little Darcy" and had yet to stop doing so even though he was a great deal taller than every single one of them.

Darcy sighed, nodding, knowing Barty was right. Shoving his hands harshly into his pockets, head still hanging low, he slouched over to Mrs. Reynolds with the look of a child who had been caught doing something wrong.

"You, young man, are in trouble!" Mrs. Reynolds admonished, snatching the baseball cap from Darcy's head by the bill and lightly slapping his in the face with the other, sweatier half.

Mrs. Reynolds, or "the Missus" as the workers affectionately referred to her as, was an elderly woman all of five feet tall with salt and pepper hair always neatly tucked away in some sort of do or another. If she was working around the house or giving tours, her preference was a bun, but if it was a slow day for relaxing, her hair would be in a beautiful braid dotted with wildflowers that grew near the house. Mrs. Reynolds was never seen in anything but a dress that went down to her ankles, the colors varying from magenta to a lime green that wasn't obnoxious. Her ancient face always remained untouched by make-up, not even to cover up the freckles dotting her wrinkled cheeks. Despite the fact Mrs. Reynolds looked more like a hippie grandma instead of a woman in charge, no one ever crossed her (quite possibly because, if one did, one didn't get his or her share of the assorted sweets she baked on Sundays for all the workers and tenants on the vast Pemberley property – that, or because she was liable to set you on fire "accidentally." One of the other). Everyone listened to her, and one knew, if one's full name was called (because Mrs. Reynolds had her ways of finding out one's full name and exactly how to pronounce it if it was a foreign name), that one was in serious trouble with her. Whenever Mrs. Reynolds did call someone by their full name, laughter and prodding ensued, and a crowd would soon form to watch the little lady whip the poor soul back into shape with her sharp tongue.

Having grown up being reared by Mrs. Reynolds, Darcy knew all of her lectures – virtually by heart. When he'd been growing up, it was a rare day when Mrs. Reynolds wasn't crowing, "Fitzwilliam Crispin Darcy, move your daft bum over here this instant," for all of England to hear. It became a regular part of the working day for people to stop what they were doing when they heard the telltale signs of the Darcy boy being in trouble and go to investigate (the helpers form the house sometimes brought popcorn if they knew little Darcy was in for a long one). Darcy's ears burned in humiliation when he heard the group he'd just left laugh louder, calling the newbie workers over to witness a "classic Little Darcy whippin'."

"Don't make me fire you, Bartholomew Baumgart! I can and will!" Darcy shouted, pouting petulantly and pointing to the man whom he knew had started the growing crowd.

"The hell you will, Little Darcy! I got too much dirt on ya! The Missus would most definitely let me copy those pictures of your cute, bare baby bum an' send 'em to some big name printin' gossip magazine!" Barty hollered back, causing the group around him to roar in laughter.

"And you wouldn't be all—ow, ow, ow!" Darcy's return barb was cut short when Mrs. Reynolds, rolling her eyes at all of the testosterone flying in the air, reached up and grabbed a fistful of Darcy's sweaty curls. Normally, she wouldn't be able to reach them, but since he was still hunched over, it was just too easy for her. Mrs. Reynolds proceeded to pull on Darcy's hair down to a more comfortable height for her because, with his hair being so short currently, it was hard to keep a grip on, then forward as she walked back to the house.

"How many times did I tell you, when you were wee, that you'd follow your hair like a girl if you didn't listen, Little Mustard Seed? Now look what you've made me do – your hair is so sticky that it has dirtied my clean hands!" Mrs. Reynolds clicked her tongue. Darcy winced, awkwardly trying to keep up with her brisk pace without tripping over his own feet or accidentally kneeing himself in the torso since he was doubled over to accommodate to Mrs. Reynolds tugging on his hair.

"But Mrs. R—"

"Don't 'But Mrs. R' me, you little scoundrel. Look at the bright side, you won't accidentally hit your head coming in the door." Mrs. Reynolds interrupted saucily, giving Darcy's hair a final gentle yank as they entered the house through a side door, releasing his tender scalp from further abuse. Darcy righted himself, rubbing the top of his sore head just like he had as a kid, still wearing a pout.

"What have I done this time, Mrs. R?" Darcy accepted defeat, rolling up his sleeves in anticipation; housework that no one liked doing, for example, cleaning the grout on the floors, usually followed a hair pulling. He could easily list off at least ten times he'd done the unsavory work while Mrs. Reynolds followed him, lecturing him about how frogs were not to be kept in the sink where his mother would find them and freak her out or about how, no matter how cute the fish were, he couldn't keep the ones he'd caught in the bathtub. The list was quite long about how many lectures and punishments Darcy had gotten from Mrs. Reynolds while his parents backed her up, giving her permission to do whatever she thought was necessary. Sometimes, they had even doubled up the punishments because his parents and Mrs. Reynolds didn't always get to talk to each other before reprimanding Darcy.

Darcy more or less dragged his feet as he followed the silent Mrs. Reynolds through the many halls of his house, knowing where she was leading him to: the kitchen. Darcy rolled his shoulders in anticipation, expecting to be told to clean the grouts on the extensive kitchen floor with a toothbrush that would, more likely than not, break when he was halfway through the chore. Darcy had grown to resent the toothbrushes used to clean the grouts because the stupid things only broke when he was working, never whenever anyone else was using them. Whenever they did break, Mrs. Reynolds usually slapped him upside the head a few times, muttering under her breath about the impossibilities of growing boys, before she got a new toothbrush.

Darcy was, therefore, surprised to see the grouts in the kitchen did not, in fact, need cleaning. Actually, the whole kitchen looked like it had been recently cleaned since everything was spick and span. What looked suspiciously like a tall glass of warm milk next to a platter of cookies sat on the breakfast bar, though.

"You spent your birthday away, and you haven't even gotten yourself measured yet! You've forgotten, you daft boy!" Mrs. Reynolds told him, pointing to the pantry door with the expression he usually saw after she'd told him to march up the stairs to sit and think in his room about what he'd done. So, naturally, Darcy's response was lacking.

"What?" He asked, blinking rapidly as he looked from Mrs. Reynolds, to the clean grout, and to the pantry door.

"You heard me – march!" Mrs. Reynolds barked, trying to swat the back of Darcy's head with the confiscated hat; she only was able to get the back of his neck, though. Darcy shrugged, walking over to the panty door he'd long since grown taller than, placing his feet at the base of the wall and his back against the door. Mrs. Reynolds pulled a footstool over so she could finally reach the top of Darcy's head, her pencil darkening the line already marking his height.

"Same as before, right? I told you, I stopped growing when I was eighteen." Darcy teased from beneath her, fully expecting the sharp sting of her whacking the top of his head with her pencil.

"Don't sass me, Little Mustard Seed. Now go and eat your snack while I write down the date." Mrs. Reynolds instructed, attempting to sound admonishing.

"But dinner was about an hour ago…" Darcy mused, rubbing his stomach; he hadn't done too much and hadn't gotten hungry yet. Besides, snacks were for in between lunch and dinner, not dinner and dessert.

"Call it dessert, then! Just go, silly boy." Mrs. Reynolds sighed, ruffling Darcy's hair lovingly. He smiled up at her before heading over to the stools by the breakfast bar, sitting on one sideways to not bang his knees up.

"I haven't seen a sincere one of those since before you left for Charlie's wedding." Mrs. Reynolds remarked, her back to Darcy as she wrote down the date next to an extensive listing of dates ranging back to Darcy's eighteenth birthday in 2004. Darcy froze at her words, looking up slowly to the woman he thought of as the grandmother her never had. Knowing her so well, he realized that this conversation was the reason why she'd called him away from doing work with the men around the property.

"Have you gotten yourself in trouble with that wee man? Leslie told me about him and that girl. She believes you fancied that Elizabeth Bennet." Mrs. Reynolds went on conversationally, descending from the stepstool. She put the stepstool away, dropped Darcy's hat next to the plate of cookies on the breakfast bar, and washed her hands before collecting some granny smith apples to peel and chop up.

"What are you making?" Darcy inquired, endeavoring to dodge the subject of Elizabeth Bennet.

"Apple cobbler. Gee says you never sounded happier for a spell. Something go sour with her? Does that Elizabeth Benet think she's too good for you?" Mrs. Reynolds spoke clinically, shoulders stiffening by the second. It took her considerable effort not to face Darcy and still appear nonchalant, but the dull "thwack" of the knife hitting the cutting board got louder the longer Darcy remained silent.

"Ever since you come home two months ago, you wake up around four, run, shower, go to work, come home early just to go exert yourself in the fields until dinner, eat, go back to the fields until ten or eleven, shower again, and sleep. I thought maybe you were excited about the present you had for Gee and wanted to stay away from her, but her birthday, Christmas, and the New Year have all passed now. You're not smiling much, Little Mustard Seed, and you're not talking much. I know something is up with you, and, from what I know, it has to deal with that Elizabeth Bennet girl. So, don't even try feeding me one of your incredibly implausible lies." Mrs. Reynolds commented when Darcy still refused to answer her. She knew it might not be the best idea attacking the subject as she was, but since it was eating away at Darcy, it hurt her and Georgiana, too. Mrs. Reynolds and Georgiana didn't enjoy seeing Darcy behave as he was, so Mrs. Reynolds took the step Georgiana wouldn't dream of making: confronting him about it. Georgiana was not in the least bit scared of her brother; she was just painfully shy and awkward with such subjects.

Darcy looked down, scrunching up his nose as he scrutinized the cookies before him, selecting the best-looking one. They were his favorite kind, oatmeal raisin, and by far one of Mrs. Reynolds' best recipes; he remembered her making them every time he asked or didn't but wanted to. When he was younger, he sometimes had wondered if Mrs. Reynolds had the superpower to read his mind, but, as he aged, he realized she was just excellent at reading emotions through body language.

"Elizabeth Bennet is… ten kinds of wonderful and then some, Mrs. R. She just thinks she's not good enough for anyone because of… things. I said some wrong words, and she got, justifiably, offended and angry. Now, I can only wait." Darcy finally said, picking up the cookie he deemed best, nibbling along the edge of it.

"Wait?" Mrs. Reynolds confounded question came as expected. Darcy sighed, nodding.

"Yes, wait. I wrote her a letter and… entrusted it to someone close to Elizabeth to give it to her at the time they deemed best." He explained before taking a large bite of his cookie. Mrs. Reynolds raised a skeptical eyebrow, knowing that if Elizabeth didn't respond soon, that she'd seen have a very cranky Darcy on her hands. Darcy was not, after all, a very patient person.

- (Crappy break line) -

Before Elizabeth had quite realized it, the winter holidays had passed in a blur, and her semester abroad in Europe went even faster. With Emma in their free time, they'd done all the touristy things they'd dreamt about since they had been children, like seeing the Coliseum in Rome and taking kooky pictures of them "holding" the Eiffel Tower. It was truly an exhilarating, liberating trip that Elizabeth was quite exultant she was able to go on. She knew she'd do it again in a heartbeat if the occasion ever arose again.

While they were away, Elizabeth had noticed Emma's insistence that young men ogled her. At first, it was at the normal frequency, but as time went on, Emma mentioned it more and more often, not letting Elizabeth deny it. Emma had even done a few mirror tricks to show Elizabeth the boys ogling her; at first, Elizabeth was adamant that it was Emma that they were looking at. However, Emma "went to the bathroom," leaving Elizabeth standing all by her lonesome.

The boys still looked.

More often than not, Elizabeth had a cute European boy asking for her number when Emma left her side to make her point. It was a new experience for Elizabeth, actually being the one the boys were asking out. In the beginning, Elizabeth tried to say they were being put up to it by their friends, but after five times, she herself even began to doubt that. It wasn't like all of Europe was sending stupid boys to her. The boys even invited her to parties sometimes!

At one point, Emma revealed to Elizabeth just how popular she was on their campus in New York. Elizabeth was quite shocked to hear that her male "friends" (they were acquaintances to her but they called her a "friend") were trying to become more than that. Some, Elizabeth knew she'd never speak to again because Emma was blunt in her explanations on whether or not the boy just wanted sex or not, others…

That was as far as Elizabeth got to in her thought process before the little devil in her mind said that the sincere boys couldn't compare to Darcy. They weren't as mature, weren't as handsome, weren't as adorable, weren't as smart, weren't as whatever… they just weren't good enough when compared to Darcy. Elizabeth hated having to remind herself that that ship had sailed, quite literally if one considered there was an ocean between them, and that she'd never see him again. She'd have to suck it up, get over what never happened and move on, but Darcy was always there, lurking in the back of her mind.

Upon returning to the States, Elizabeth was a bit more accepting to the fact that boys did, indeed, ogle her. She'd be stupid not to with all the evidence heaped in front of her face, but she didn't have to be comfortable with it. It was unnerving since Elizabeth had been told she'd never be wanted when she really was. She even kept a look out for the boys now, almost as fascinated with the revelation as she was daunted by it. They actually ogled her! It made Elizabeth laugh mirthlessly when the thought popped into her mind. Fatina was wrong, but for some morbid reason, she wished Fatina had been right.

Almost as soon as she was back in New York, Elizabeth was on a plane again, flying down to Florida with her aunt, uncle, and cousins to visit Disney World. Throughout the duration of the approximately three hour flight, Elizabeth stared at the heavy envelope in her lap that Emma had given to her. Emma had come with the Gardiners and Elizabeth because she was going to drive their minivan back to their home. Elizabeth had been blindsided when Emma had held her back, saying she had something important to give to her.

"I know this is kind of sudden and totally unexpected, but… um… this is for you. I haven't read a word of it. He gave it to me, telling me to give it to you when I thought it was best. I don't know if you're quite ready to read it yet – I mean, not knowing what the contents are… but I just have this feeling in my gut that you need to read it now." Emma had said, pulling the envelope from her purse. Elizabeth had known at once who "he" was, and it felt like she received a punch to the gut when she saw the neat, front-like script on the front addressing the envelope to, "Kitten."

In the terminal waiting for the plane, Elizabeth felt like retching. Her aunt must have seen the envelope and "Kitten" written on it because Mariabella kept her children busy and away from Elizabeth. Elizabeth felt like a zombie when she boarded, hands trembling as she carried the letter, letting her uncle guide her to her seat.

Why was he doing this to her? They weren't going to see each other ever again! Why couldn't Darcy just leave her be trying to think the worst of him? Why, why, why…

When they arrived in the Florida airport and got their bags in baggage claim, Elizabeth followed her family mechanically onto the bus that took them to the car rental place. She was a robot during the drive to Disney World, gazing out the window but not taking the sights in; since it was dark, there wasn't much to see other than the neon signs lighting up storefronts, anyways. Elizabeth was forced to put the envelope in her bag when they got to the hotel so she could help her uncle load the trolley and maneuver it safely into the elevator while Mariabella kept track of her kids. After eating the room service perfunctorily, Elizabeth declined the offer to go swimming in the hotel pool, choosing instead to lock herself in the bathroom and read Darcy's letter. She lay a fluffy towel down on the floor before the tub, leaning her back on the tub while curling her toes into the plush towel.

"Quick, like a band aid…" Elizabeth whispered, closing her eyes as she slit the envelope open with her finger, trying not to reflect on the possibility that Darcy might have licked it shut.

"_Dear Elizabeth_," Elizabeth started reading slowly, chewing on her lower lip. She could see how hard it was for Darcy to write the letter since it was covered in furiously crossed out words or sentences. Elizabeth could only guess at what time Darcy had written the letter, but she doubted he had waited until the next day to do so. She figured he'd either written it as soon as he'd gotten back home or after a few hours of vainly trying to fall asleep that night.

"_This is not a love letter, I assure you. This letter only contains the defenses I have against the words you shot at me during our argument. I cannot stomach the thought of you thinking badly of me. My second to last request from you, if you don't ever wish to see me again, is to read this letter._" Elizabeth stopped there, rolling her eyes. Of course he wouldn't, the prideful idiot… Didn't he realize she hadn't thought badly of him in months, ever since she started trusting him? Didn't he comprehend that she couldn't help herself but to think well of him?

"_My last request from you is that, after you have read this letter, is to please not tell anyone else of its contents. I have enclosed some extremely personal experiences in this letter, and I don't want anyone to find out about them. You'll see why._

"_Let me address the issue of your family first. Although you might not see them as 'unhealthy' for you, I do. It is my opinion that you limit your contact with them since it severely affects your self-esteem. I don't know if you've realized it yourself, but you have bowed down to their expectations. Men have eyes, Kitten, including me. What we see is a beautiful young woman with gorgeous, enchanting eyes that light up considerably when she smiles. You'll never be able to convince me otherwise, no matter what your mother and sisters might say because they're jealous hags. From what understand of what you've told me, your sisters are your mother's 'mini-mes.' You're the only one that broke the mold, Kitten, and your mother doesn't like that._" Elizabeth felt her stomach convulsing in silent, displeased laughter. That was the understatement of the century. Fatina _abhorred_ it.

"_Your father, on the other hand, just lets your mother and your sisters abuse you mentally; I can't fathom why he does. I would call this 'indifference at best' every time you asked me about it because, if this was happening to my daughter, I'd certainly stop it before it even began. I'm sorry my opinions may differ than yours, but they are what they are. I care for you, Kitten, and only want what is best for you. Your direct family is not what I deem 'good' for you, but I cannot stop you if you visit your family. I can only express that I'd prefer you didn't and leave it at that. As for when I mentioned the expensive restaurant, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it in the way it came out. I meant it in the way that I wanted to spoil you, do things with you your parents couldn't and didn't do._

"_I will move on because my opinions will not change nor will I stop form voicing them. Again, I apologize that it offends you. I was just speaking what I believe is the blunt truth. The next subject I'll address is Jane. This will take longer than the first since I'll have to explain the whole situation to you. You may choose to believe me or to not believe me about any of the following events, including the ones after the Jane topic, but if you ask Dick, he can confirm all of this happened._" Elizabeth stared at the rigorously crossed out sentence after that, trying to make it out. Her eyes glassed over in both ire and sorrow when she saw it read, "_I'm sorry that you don't trust me enough if you do have to confirm these events through Dick._"

"_I hadn't met Jane until the wedding. Charlie I've known since I was just under fourteen. As long as she made Charlie happy, I really couldn't complain about her. I only thought that they were rushing things since they had only dated for two, three months top before Charlie proposed to Jane. On top of that, they are both so young and haven't seen so many of the hardships of life. I meant no disrespect when I said this; I just wanted to protect my best friend from the potential heartbreak and divorce he could go through in the future from a hasty decision of marrying Jane so quickly. From then on, she didn't seem to like me much, which I completely understand. I have the odd habit of pissing people off when I first meet them._

"_During the wedding, Jane must have noticed how often Charlie came to me for advice. You must have detected, too, when we were together. I can only guess Charlie does this because he is very scared about making decisions on his own since his father has always made them for him. Being older than him but still his best friend, Charlie ahs relied on me since we first met; I've never led him wrong, either, so that helps his cause. Personally, I don't mind; I like helping friends. I'm assuming Jane only minds because Charlie comes to me before he goes to her even when the subject he wants an opinion on concerns her. I've never really opened up to Jane, either, so she's got an incredibly bad impression of me, which is entirely my fault. I haven't talked to her nor have I tried to push Charlie to her. I quite understand why Jane doesn't like me but I haven't been bothered to change her opinion._

"_As I've said, Charlie comes to me when he should probably consult Jane instead. He had come to me numerous times, asking if he should have a baby or not. I have raised my own sister from birth, and I can assure you that babies are a step I don't' think Charlie is responsible enough for yet. So, whenever he came to me, I expressed my opinion that he should not have a child with Jane, and she knows of my disapproval through Charlie and because she was with Charlie and me sometimes when the topic came up._

"_Again, I remind you that Jane doesn't know me that well and doesn't think highly of me. That, combined with my disapproval of them having a child, I do know how she jumped to the conclusion that she did when I asked if they had considered an abortion._" Even though she had accused him of doing so, Elizabeth had never fully believed Darcy had the audacity to ask Charlie and Jane to their faces if they had thought about having an abortion when they must have been so zealous.

"_They told me the news first over the phone. Jane must not have liked that, but that's not the point. After I asked the question, they hung up on me. They didn't hear anything else, only that I asked if they had considered this. Jane blatantly took it in the completely different way than I meant. I asked because I knew how heavily Charlie relied on my opinions, and my opinion in that matter was that they were better off without a child. I asked if they considered having an abortion to dissuade them from doing so if they had decided upon it. While I don't think they'll be able to handle their baby at first, I don't think they should kill it. It's my personal belief that the baby is alive once it's conceived and that it should stay that way unless the mother's life is in danger. Since Jane doesn't know me personally, she would have no inkling of this. I didn't bother calling back and further explaining what I meant, so it is, once more, entirely my fault about this misunderstanding._" Elizabeth felt relief pouring into her veins. She knew Darcy didn't mean it in the way Jane thought! It was just a misunderstanding after all.

"_Thirdly, let me address the longest and most painful grievance you have laid against me. I know not of the tabloid you spoke of, but I do know of the rumor that you read. It is an incredibly old one that I hoped had been forgotten. I shall warn you know I will be brief since it pains me greatly to remember these events._

"_You thought the man's name was 'George Whitman.' His name is actually 'George Wickham,' and he is the reason I picked up smoking. I had no idea you held the habit in such contempt, so I'd like to say I've mostly quit it. It comes on now if I ever get exceptionally nervous or panicked. Continuing on with Wickham, he grew up with me. His father and my own were best friends. Mr. Wickham, George's dad, worked for my father as the head groundskeeper of my family's estate, Pemberley. I know I've told you of Pemberley, but I'm not sure if you understand how vast it actually is. As head groundskeeper, Mr. Wickham did many things, so his son was allowed to play in the house with me since Mrs. Wickham had divorced Mr. Wickham._

"_At first, I fully accepted Wickham into my life. He was a playmate close to my age, finally; he's a few years older than me. As we got older, Wickham got into girls… many girls at one time. He was a cheater and liar from the start. Then he picked up alcohol, gambling, and nicotine. Wickham couldn't let his father know where his lunch money went, so Wickham convinced me to steal my father's private stash of cigarettes and bottles of whiskey. I never got hooked on alcohol, but once I tried smoking, I couldn't seem to quit._

"_I started at around ten or so. My father found out when I was thirteen. I'm sure he had an inkling, buy he didn't have any solid proof I was the one smoking until he caught me one day. Danny, Mr. Reynolds, had ratted us out. Wickham blamed me for everything. It was the first sign of resentment I saw from him that year. It escalated quickly until I was a scapegoat for him to blame everything on._

"_I'm sure your strong objection isn't to smoking alone. If you got the information from Wickham, I'm sure you saw him blaming me for my parents' deaths. This is entirely untrue since I wasn't even on the yacht when it was on fire. Wickham had pushed Gee, who was almost two at the time, overboard, whether intentionally or unintentionally I don't know. I jumped off on my own free will after retrieving a life jacket. In that time, Wickham had reached the wheel of the ship. With the adults, my parents as well as his own father, under the deck, they never heard me screaming. Wickham was learning how to drive to boat that day, so him driving around randomly wasn't uncommon. They wouldn't have suspected a thing._

"_All I knew until Gee and I were identified at the hospital was that, for forty-eight hours, I had been floating at sea clutching my baby sister to my chest, trying to keep her head above water. I knew of the hunger, the thirst, the horror of watching my sister's movements fade and thinking she had died in my arms after the first day. It was just after they told me Gee would live that I was notified that my parents had died, burned alive at sea. I don't know how the fire came to be or why they couldn't get off. All I know for sure is that Wickham tried to kill or completely terrify me that day, as well as Gee; he did succeed in making Gee essentially blind and hampering my vision as well since both our eyes got severely burnt by the sun while we floated at sea. I didn't even know he had survived until he approached Gee when she was fourteen and told her the same sob story you read about. He nearly succeeded in taking my baby sister from me again that year; it's only luck she's still with me now. Because I went mute after the yacht episode, Gee didn't really know me; it's completely logical that she thought my silence was guilty. At fourteen, you believe anything, especially words coming from a man who said he loved you. I caught them just before they entered the airport to fly to God knows where._

"_This is all that I can say and hope that you believe me. I can express my apologies once more, but I feel that might be redundant at this point. I hope that you live a happy life, Elizabeth, and that this has not tarnished your opinion of me._" There was, once more, a sentence that was blackened out, however, Elizabeth was unable to make out that it said, "_I love you._"

The way Darcy signed the letter was also heavily marked out. There were three crossed out attempts before he just ended it with:

"_God bless,  
>Fitzwilliam Crispin Darcy.<em>"

**A/N**: _Woo for extra long chapter and hippie grandma-like Mrs. Reynolds? :) So, guys, good news: I have a weeklong break for Thanksgiving, and I'm probably not going anywhere. Know what that means? There's a chance I'll be able to get chapter 15 out by the end of this week! Don't get your hopes up though, just in case. I'm a lazy bum who likes baking brownies and playing Pokémon during break time. Also, I think this story will be about 20 chapters long (I finally thought of an ending!)… its gone by so fast. ;n; Oh yeah, BTW – I've never been to Disney World. I have no idea if their hotel has a pool (if it doesn't, pretend it does), and I really don't know what its like there. So if I get anything wrong in the next (few?) chapter(s?), I'm claiming artistic license. :P_

_~ Tobi_


	15. Ain't No Passing Craze

**First Impressions  
>Rated<strong>: T  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Yo no tengo Senora Austen's "Orgullo y Prejuicio."  
><strong>Awesome Reviewers (who make my day)<strong>:  
><span>Ladysilver11<span>: Thank you! :) Lol, same here… I also can't wait to start my next fic, but I still love this one.  
><span>M0ckingbird77<span>: Thank you so much for reviewing! :D I'm sorry I broke your heart in chap 10 and cry in chap 12/14. Also, I'm sorry for not giving you the best Thanksgiving break ever. Thank you so much, again, your reviews made my day.  
><span>Clarinetto14<span>: Thank you. :)  
><span>Guest<span>: Sob story being a compliment, right? xD Lol, you noticed that fail? You get cookies.  
><span>HawkAngel XD<span>: Thank you. C:  
><span>MerLocked<span>: As I'm sure you've realized by now, James isn't Wickham. Thank you for reviewing! :)  
><span>Justlovefanfiction2901<span>: You'll see. ;) Thanks for reviewing!

**- Ain't No Passing Craze -**

"C'mon, Izzy! Up! Geddup!" High-pitched, nagging voices rang in Elizabeth's ear, but she didn't register them or where they came from.

"'Stooerlyferskoo… five more minutes…" Elizabeth moaned, turning her back on her two cousins, burying her face deeper into the fluffy hotel pillow. When the voices didn't return immediately, she foolishly assumed that she was getting the five requested minutes.

"IZZY! GET! UP!" One demon child screeched, barraging Elizabeth's head with a pillow while the other, echoing the first, started jumping up and down on the bed right over Elizabeth's legs. In a futile attempt to shoo away at least one of her cousins, Elizabeth slapped at the pillow and shifted her legs slowly; neither movements deterred Bonnie and Noelle in the least. With all the ruckus the girls were making, Elizabeth couldn't ignore them and had to join the world of the conscious once more.

"'M up, 'm up…. Brats." Elizabeth grumbled, sitting up just as Eadbard opened the door to the room Elizabeth shared with Bonnie and Noelle. He and Mariabella shared the adjacent room with the triplets and had heard all the noise.

"Girls, if 'Lizabeth wants to sleep in, you will let her do so." Eadbard, wrapped up in a complimentary terry robe, growled, walking over to the bed. Elizabeth wasn't able to tell him it was all right before he plucked Bonnie off of the bed and set her down on the floor, waggling his finger in both of his girls' faces.

"'Lizabeth wants to sleep in, so stop bothering her, okay? Your mum and I will take you to the pool." Eadbard reprimanded them; Noelle's large eyes started to water, and her bottom lip trembled.

"No, no, I'm up already… I'll take them. You and Aunt Mari just chill; I can take care of them – promise. When does the pool open, anyways? It's only…" Elizabeth started off, words stopping as she looked at the digital clock on the bedside table. Her eyes widened at the early hour, and she severely doubted that the pool would be open at nearly seven in the morning.

"Let me go check what time it opens first." Elizabeth sighed, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. She spent five minutes consoling her uncle before she was able to slip away to the elevator, still clad in her pajamas, the ones that her father had found so disquieting. Elizabeth hit the first floor button, running a hand through her rat's nest of curls and wondered if every day of her vacation would start this early because of the little cousins. She understood their excitement about being in Disney World for the first time since it was her first time, too, but she really couldn't see how they were up so early.

"_Probably because of Darcy… damn him and his letter_." Elizabeth mused, disgruntled. She'd spent the better part of the night sitting in that frigid bathroom just staring off into space, too stunned to really do much. Elizabeth had read the letter three times before she really digested it, then started reading it every few minutes or so. After her family had gotten back, Elizabeth had no choice but to vacate the bathroom so Bonnie and Noelle could bathe; then, Elizabeth had switched on the television to the Disney channel. It seemed wrong to watch something else (especially since channels like Adult Swim were in no way, shape, or form appropriate for Bonnie and Noelle to even _glimpse_). Once the girls had been tucked in for the night, Elizabeth had taken the letter out again, staring at the font-like handwriting depicting her best dreams and worst nightmares in the dim lighting her phone screen provided beneath the duvet.

"Damn _him. He couldn't just leave me be, could he?_" Elizabeth thought as the elevator pinged, opening its doors to the first floor. She wasn't really vexed… not _really_. Elizabeth only wished that Darcy had been able to "stomach the thought" of her thinking badly of him because, well, it made it so easy for her to try and forget him… to stop thinking about him. With the letter, all Elizabeth could do now was hope for a miracle.

… Or not. She wasn't sure if she wanted to try something new with someone she had so much baggage with. It wasn't like Darcy was the only fish in the sea. It wasn't like he was so quirky that he was, quite frankly, adorable beyond words. It wasn't like he was the best cook ever. It wasn't like he was the only one there for her when she needed someone in the past. It wasn't like he… was right in front of her.

Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks, violently ripped away from her thoughts. Her heart beat an erratic tune as Elizabeth gave the man a once over, trying vainly to convince herself she was still dreaming; she even pinched herself for good measure.

Darcy _was_ right in front of her.

- (Crappy break line) -

Elizabeth was so close he could taste her. She danced in the wind, and Darcy gave chase vainly, always falling short of grasping Elizabeth's hand when he reached out. Her hair tickled across his face, smelling strongly of Tide (that wasn't right…), breathing life into him. It had been so long, too long…

"Criszzzzzt, zzzzzt, zzzzzt, zzzzzt!" Elizabeth called (that wasn't right…), voice tinkling with laughter. Darcy could even feel the vibrations of sound coming from her lips pulsating over his face (that wasn't right, either…). It was too real, it was….

Darcy bit back a moan, blinking blearily as his brain realized that he wasn't dreaming anymore. Taking in the sights around him, it took him entirely too long to remember he wasn't at Pemberley anymore; he was at Disney World in one of the Rosings hotels with Georgiana. Darcy rubbed the sleep from his eyes to the hum of the alarm clock smothered by his pillow. He always woke up at 4:30 in the morning while Georgiana favored the much later time of 7:00; because of Georgiana's heightened hearing, whenever they shared a room, Darcy placed his alarm clock beneath his pillow to try to be considerate.

Thirty minutes later, Darcy was unlocking the door to the workout room in the hotel. Normally, it opened at six, but since he was a partial owner, he'd been given a key to open up the room an hour earlier. This action brought Elizabeth to the forefront of Darcy's mind – was it arrogant? High-handed? Darcy didn't know. He'd grown up with such liberties, so he didn't know anything else. And if he didn't do his morning run before Georgiana woke up, he wouldn't get to do it at all. Swallowing his conundrum, Darcy flicked the lights on, powering up a treadmill. He didn't particularly like running on treadmills, but, trapped in Disney World, Darcy had to suffer in silence. He placed one of the white hand towels from the bathroom on the front of the treadmill along with an iced bottle of water. Darcy put his earphones in his ears, and suddenly he was lost in a world consisting of his blood rushing, the thudding of his own feet, and the music streaming from his iPod.

As of late, Darcy had been hung up on Savage Garden. He blamed it on Elizabeth; she'd been the first person to actually know who Savage Garden was and ask about them. Darcy could clearly remember her question, simple and innocent enough ("_Do you still listen to them?_"), and his reaction to it. He'd worn the shirt on accident, but she'd noticed. Elizabeth had no idea what a tender subject it was for Darcy, and he'd… he had probably come off as the world's biggest prick. Reflecting back, Darcy knew his attitude toward Elizabeth hadn't been the best in the beginning and wondered why she'd even given him that wonderful second chance (that he'd ruined – which seemed to be the running theme concerning Elizabeth and himself). On top of that, he'd been so callous trying to ask her out! Lord, he was a fool.

Darcy lost his rhythm when "To the Moon and Back" started playing. It was his wont to not really pay attention to the lyrics of songs when he ran, only using them as background noise, but this song really struck a chord with him. The words stuck out in his psyche, and he found himself actually listening to them. Darcy wanted to hurl. He stopped running, breaking his stride, sitting on the floor with his back to the wall and his head between his knees. The world seemed to be closing in on him, drowning him in its crushing, liquid force ebbing and flowing around him… He ripped the earphones from his ears to get the music out of his system. Darcy took deep, consoling breaths, not conscious that his limbs were trembling until he'd calmed himself down.

Darcy snorted in disgust, tilting his head back into the wall, running his shaking hand through his sweaty hair. It had been a long time since he'd had such a panic attack… It didn't surprise him, not really, since he was thinking about Elizabeth, the past, and really paying attention to Savage Garden. The band alone caused him to spazz out sometimes, like he had with Elizabeth months ago in that mall crammed with people, and it just got worse if other things got combined with it.

Darcy got to his feet, shaking off the last bits of his fears as he scooped up his iPod from the floor, powering it down and shoving it into his pocket. He walked over to the treadmill he'd been running on to grab the bottle, taking hearty swigs until just half of the water remained; Darcy held the bottle to his eyes after he was done drinking, the ice still within the bottle doing wonders for him. As he was leaving the workout room, Darcy dried his sweaty hair with the towel then let it hang around his neck as he picked up the edge of his shirt to wipe at his face. He heard someone take a sharp breath and dropped the cotton shirt, gazing forward at a face he'd only dreamt about recently.

- (Crappy break line) -

Elizabeth knew she couldn't be mistaken. If the tight core muscles covered in dark, curly hair weren't enough to prove to her it was him, the handsome face that was now staring right at her did. Darcy's hair had grown back, it seemed, for now it was just a bit shorter than when she'd first met him instead of the military cut she'd left him with.

"Your, um, your hair grows fast… and… I, um… I'll be going now. Ta-ta." Elizabeth stammered, giving a little finger wave before spinning on her heel and speed walking back down the hall, too proud to actually run while in his line of sight like she wanted to. She was nearly to the elevators when she heard Darcy speak the cliché words.

"K—Elizabeth, wait!"

Elizabeth bit her lower lip, stopping but turning as rigid as a board. It wasn't that she didn't want to see him, not exactly, but… all her instincts said to run. Her face burned in embarrassment, and her heart palpitated. Because she was someone who was generally not wrong, Elizabeth had little experience staring down her wrong answer (in this case, literally); it was an unsettling, alien feeling to her. She didn't like it one bit, especially not with Darcy's ever watchful eyes on her.

Darcy caught up to Elizabeth in only a few hurried steps, his strides much longer than hers. He could see her troubled visage, and his arms itched to wrap around her in a suffocating hug. It made him curious if her expression was from the bad argument or because she'd read his letter; either way, Darcy knew he was obviously the cause for her looking like she was. He didn't enjoy it one bit.

"You don't need to run… in the spirit of where we are, hakuna matata? What are you doing here – besides vacationing?" Darcy asked earnestly, eyes running up and down Elizabeth's back. He had latched onto the first thing he saw to keep her around a while longer: her suspicious clothing. Now, Darcy knew Elizabeth was an extrovert, but he was doubtful even she would go parading around a theme park in cotton ghost pajama pants and a giant lack t-shirt that was way too big for her.

Darcy fisted his hands in his pockets, trying to look nonchalant while he was mentally throwing a party. Of all the people to run into… he wasn't going to let her go. Not when he could fix things. Not when kismet had given him another chance.

"I, um… okay." Elizabeth sighed, trying to clear her head and digest her shock. She crossed her arms over her chest, wanting to hide the huge block letters spelling "NIKE" from Darcy's view when she turned around to face him. Elizabeth first attempted to look everywhere but at him – at the white ceiling, the pale wallpaper featuring almost invisible silver rose outlines, the wine-hued carpet, the fancy golden light fixture – but was unable to do so successfully. Her eyes soon drifted back to Darcy filling her view. Elizabeth could tell their meeting was entirely by chance since she knew Darcy loved looking impeccable, especially if she was in the vicinity. He currently had sweat triangles soaking his light gray tank top on his chest and beneath his arms; if she could see Darcy's back, Elizabeth would have noted he had another trailing down his spine. There was no way he'd come over to her appearing like that if he could avoid it.

"So, what are you doing here? I mean, I think it might be a bit hot for all that…" Darcy teased lightly, nodding at all the black Elizabeth was wearing. He didn't mind repeating his question since Elizabeth wasn't fleeing form him anymore nor did she have her back to him. Darcy had been momentarily surprised when he recognized her shirt, but he kept it in check, not wanting to make her even more uncomfortable.

"Oh, um. This? I was just… I'm here with Aunt Mari and Uncle Eddie. The kids wanted to swim with me this morning… Since it's so early, I came down to see what time the pool opened." Elizabeth explained, shrugging slightly. Although she was looking at Darcy now, her gaze rested on his right shoulder rather than his eyes.

"It… do you know where the pool even is?" Darcy, instead of answering the unasked question, proposed. Why answer her question when he could spend more time with her by showing it to her?

"Eerr, somewhere around here?" Elizabeth guessed, having figured that the pool had to be around where the workout room was on the first floor like in most hotels. From Darcy's tone, she had a feeling she was wrong.

"No, come with me." Darcy smiled, holding his breath as he gently tugged one of Elizabeth's hands loose to lead her to the elevators she'd been heading towards originally to escape his presence. Elizabeth had her eyes locked on their intertwined fingers. Was Darcy really willing to forgive and forget, just like that? After all she'd said?

"Where is it?" Elizabeth asked, trying to put it out of her mind but not able to with Darcy's perspiring hand tightly wrapped around hers. It was just there, large, warm, and slightly slick, pressed against her colder palm. He'd done it so many times before, but now he had a reason to hate her guts…

"You'll see. I apologize if I smell… I just got off the treadmill." Darcy said, smiling down at Elizabeth. He wasn't quite sure when his heart was beating the fastest: now, holding Elizabeth's hand again, or when he had been running. He pressed the button to call for an elevator, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

"No, no, it's okay – I get it. You work out, get hot, your body sweats to keep your internal temperature down, it smells 'cause of the bacteria, you haven't had the time to shower or anything yet… and I'm babbling. Sorry." Elizabeth started out fine but ended mumbling horribly. She could feel her cheeks redden even more. She loathed this, she really did. It went against Elizabeth's code of ethics to remain silent and shy like she was, but she had no idea how to raise the subject of Darcy's letter without being dreadfully blunt.

"It's… you. Don't apologize." Darcy commented with the ding notifying them an elevator had come. He'd almost said "cute" but had caught himself. Elizabeth's babbling certainly was adorable, but he didn't think she'd react well to him saying it, not in the state she was in. Darcy pulled her into the waiting car, pressing the top button.

"It's on the top floor?" Elizabeth asked in surprise, eyebrows knitting together. She didn't expect a pool to be on the top floor, but this hotel, Rosing, was fancy… _Rosings_.

"You own part of this place, don't you?" Elizabeth inquired in a flat monotone, looking up at Darcy's face for the first time. He scratched at his nose with his free hand, ears turning red.

"It's not on the top floor." Darcy ignored Elizabeth's second question. He didn't want to admit to owning a part of the hotel chain, so he acted as if he didn't hear that almost accusing question. When the elevator stopped on the top floor, Darcy tugged Elizabeth out, taking her to a stairwell with the label "Pool" outside of the door along with the hours listing.

"It opens at seven, see? These stairs lead up to the roof, and that's where the pool is. It's a splendid view up there." Darcy said, gesturing to the placard before pulling Elizabeth into the stairwell and up the flight of stairs.

"Hey, I'm not exactly dressed to go swimming, …" Elizabeth trailed off, unsure of what to call Darcy. Would "Crispy" be appropriate or too forward? Was he going to call her "Kitten" again? In her musings, Elizabeth barely registered the wind hitting her face as they exited the stairwell onto the roof. Darcy took her to the edge, leaning over the four-foot tall wall and peering down. There weren't any kids running around, leading their parents any and everywhere, but he knew there would be in just an hour.

"It's not a view generally seen because of people wanting to go rides and such, but it looks heart-warming when you can see all the zealous kids running about like ants. That's where the true magic is, in my opinion. Even Gee, who can't see much, got this look on her face when we arrived…" Darcy said tenderly, his face portraying the "proud papa" look as he trailed off.

"How long have you been—"

"I read your letter." Elizabeth blurted out, interrupting Darcy's question. With that thought at the forefront of her mind, suffocating her, on top of Darcy's doting expression… it was too much. She couldn't not tell him, not when he looked like that talking about his sister. Georgiana made Elizabeth remember the words she'd read only last night, and the sentence had just spewed forth from her mouth automatically. Elizabeth wasn't quite brave enough to face Darcy after admitting that, so she instead looked at his shoes.

"I didn't need Dick's confirmation – that's not a backhanded shot, either, I'm just saying that I _do_ trust you. You really have no idea… and I'm really, _really_ sorry for being such a—a bitch. God, I think I was a bigger bitch than Caroline in those minutes. And thanks for driving me home and tucking me in that night, too." Elizabeth started babbling again, because the words just bubbled up, and she wouldn't – and couldn't – stop them. They were important words, words that had to be said or else she'd suffocate. They weren't pretty, and they sure as hell weren't fun to say. However, they needed to be, for both her sake and Darcy's.

Even though she was staring at his feet, Elizabeth didn't see Darcy turn to face her; her vision had gone blurry, shame building up in her system. She certainly didn't see his shocked expression from her confession turn into a frown nor the concerned tilt of his head. All Elizabeth could see was that argument playing continuously, only making her more ill at ease and disgraced. She had once claimed to be a good reader of people, but now that she'd been terrifically, horribly wrong about Darcy twice, she didn't know anymore.

"Hey…"

"I shouldn't have believed a stupid magazine. I mean, I've never even read any but National Geographic or the like… I should have gotten the whole story out of Jane, too… and Caroline probably only lied to me – but I didn't tell you about her then, though… and I take back the lesbian thing – that was really uncalled for…"

"Kitten…"

"Gosh, and then you had to rehash all those bad memories just because I'm stupid… and I can't stop talking because, I don't know, and I went home and realized you were right about my parents and sisters, so even though what you said wasn't right, it was true… and I'm such a bad person, and—"

Elizabeth stopped then, unable to go on because her face was being pressed into something warm, which she realized was Darcy's chest. Her eye twitched, and she tried to hold her breath, hoping he'd let go of her quickly. While Elizabeth would normally welcome a hug from Darcy, she wasn't too happy about the situation because he was so sweaty.

"Kitten, you really know how to lay it on thick. Nothing is your fault, all right? You've got nothing to apologize for." Darcy sighed, releasing Elizabeth from the hug but keeping his hands firm on her shoulders. Elizabeth was a bit taken aback by how earnest Darcy's expression was.

"Besides, we decided on 'hakuna matata,' remember? Cheer up, Kitten. I said some really awful things, and you responded accordingly. I was also unclear as to what I meant, and since you are a virtuous young woman, you reacted accordingly. Nothing you did that night was out of line." Darcy continued, tucking his fingers beneath Elizabeth's chin when she tried to look down and away from his face.

"Even still, I suck at reading people, I'm rude, I'm sarcastic, I can't sit still, I will tell you random, obscure facts sometimes, I can't stand the silence, I'm short, I'm loud, I'm obnoxious, I don't like escargot, and I hate wearing dresses about ninety-nine percent of the time." Elizabeth frowned, confused when, halfway through his tirade, Darcy started chuckling.

"No, you... Look, Elizabeth, nothing you say right now or ever will make me hate or think ill of you. Caroline might think herself a lady, but you are more of one than she'll ever be – as I'm sure that's where that little outburst stemmed from. I don't care what you think your faults are; I'd still love to be your friend, if you'd let me." Darcy teased, smirking slightly.

"… I missed you." Elizabeth said after a minute, letting Darcy know that she did want him back in her life without saying as much. When he went in for another hug, Elizabeth backed away, grinning slightly.

"No more hugs until you shower, Crispy. Not that I want to sound like a priss, but you're icky right now. I don't accept hugs from icky, sweaty, smelly people." She said. It was a step in the right direction. Elizabeth still didn't quite feel that at ease with Darcy, but she was pretty sure his persistence would win her over again. Darcy pouted at her until he grabbed his shirt and sniffed it.

"Oh bullocks, I _do_ smell." He muttered, and Elizabeth snorted.

"That is an understatement, Crispy. You reek."

"Oi!" Darcy shouted, but it was too late. Elizabeth dashed away from him, playfully sticking her tongue out over her shoulder before disappearing into the stairwell. Darcy sighed, leaning against the wall before looking up to the sky, a breeze playing softly across his face.

"I don't know what I did to deserve this much luck, but… if anyone is up there helping me out, thanks."

- (Crappy break line) -

"What took you so long getting the time the pool opened?" Mariabella asked Elizabeth, stretching out on a lounge chair next to Elizabeth. Since the Typhoon Lagoon didn't open until nine, the kids were swimming in the pool until then; they had headed up the instant Elizabeth told them it was already open. Mariabella had noted that Elizabeth had taken a half hour to check the time the hotel pool opened up and come back; she found it quite suspicious.

"I got lost. You didn't tell me it was up here." Elizabeth half lied, sitting on the edge of her lounge chair. She wrapped her beach towel around her shoulders, feeling chilled since she'd just gotten out of the water.

"Oh, yes… sorry." Mariabella giggled, knowing Elizabeth couldn't have taken that long even if she'd gotten lost (which was plausible). She was about to inquire further when the door to the stairwell opened; after she saw who was there, Mariabella had no further need to question her niece.

"Yes, very 'lost.'" Mariabella winked at Elizabeth, vacating the lounge chair even though she'd just taken it. She decided that being in the pool with her wild children playing the splashing game was much more relaxing than napping on a boring old chair. Elizabeth's cheeks flamed as Darcy walked over, bringing a little girl with him, leading her with a gentle hand on the small of her back. The girl couldn't have been much taller than Elizabeth, but she was definitely looked about fifty pounds or more lighter than Elizabeth. The girl, whom Elizabeth could only assume was Georgiana, had a heart-shaped face framed with golden curls that could have passed for a halo. With Darcy next to her, Georgiana looked quite a few years younger than she really was.

Darcy shot a glance at Mariabella before directing Georgiana to sit on the lounge chair next to Elizabeth. He was sure Mariabella was meddling again, and he was grateful.

"K—Elizabeth, this is my sister, Georgiana. Gee, this is Elizabeth Bennet." Darcy introduced, taking a seat next to his sister. Being closer to her now, Elizabeth was able to see the resemblance between the siblings. At first glance, Georgiana looked nothing like her broad, thickly built brother, but up close, their facial features were almost identical. Georgiana shared a smaller version of her brother's nose, the same regal brow, and the same thick lashes framed her eyes. Georgiana's eyes were large, almost too big for her face, and her irises were the prettiest shade of crystal blue laced with silver Elizabeth had ever seen.

"Hello, Georgiana. I've heard so much about you." Elizabeth said along with the chorus of, "Who's that?" from her cousins in the pool. A smile lit up Georgiana's face, revealing she had the same dimples her brother had just as Darcy's ears turned red.

"I could say the same about you, Elizabeth. This might sound strange, but may I touch your face?" Georgiana's voice matched her appearance. It was light, almost like the wind could take it away if it really tried.

"Uh, sure. It's fine." Elizabeth was momentarily startled before she remembered Georgiana's sight problem. As Georgiana's thin, warm hands explored the panes of her face, Elizabeth added, "And you can call me Lizzie, by the way." In the background, she could hear her younger cousins asking their parents why Georgiana was feeling her face.

"You can call me Gee, then. You must have a very nice smile, Lizzie." Georgiana complimented when she was done discovering Elizabeth's face. Elizabeth's cheeks reddened again; coming from the angelic Georgiana, the compliment weighed more than usual.

"Thank you. Um, before they get restless, I have to introduce you to my family." Elizabeth smiled, taking Georgiana's offered hand as she stood. Darcy watched Elizabeth take Georgiana to the edge of the pool and point out all of the kids before Eadbard and Mariabella. Once the kids learned about Georgiana's poor eyesight, they were all clamoring to get out of the pool to let her touch their faces; the triplets actually seemed quite taken with her, all three vying to be the first she met with her hands. Darcy had to laugh at that; he wondered what they'd do if they found out he and Georgiana planned on spending the day with them. Once Georgiana had been introduced to everyone, she discarded her denim shorts and white camisole, revealing her delicate pale pink bathing suit beneath.

Having also noticed how enamored her male cousins were even though they were probably about eight years younger than Georgiana and way out of her league, Elizabeth favored to sitting down across from Darcy again over trying to subdue Connor, Shane, and James. Glancing at Darcy's attire, a white tank similar to the one he'd worn earlier and a pair of deep green swimming trunks, she wondered why he wasn't in the pool with Georgiana and asked as much.

"I don't really feel like it. I can watch her from here and refrain from getting wet myself… since we're going to Tycoon Lagoon today, it's inevitable for me to get in the water; I'm just dragging my feet. Besides, your cousins are quite…" Darcy trailed off, amused. He leaned back into the chair, crossing his arms beneath his head. Elizabeth looked away under the pretense of watching her cousins; in reality, she was confused by how her heart raced at the sight of Darcy's torso all stretched out. Before their fight, she probably would have reached out and tickled his sides and blamed her increased heart rate on adrenaline, but now… she wasn't sure. Elizabeth didn't feel like she could tickle Darcy, but her heart still beat fast all the same. In her jumbled thoughts, she didn't register that the Darcys were going to the same part of the park she and the Gardiners had been planning on visiting.

"They don't mean any harm. Your sister – Gee… she's very pretty. I mean, _really_ pretty… but she's so skinny." Elizabeth said, eyes lingering over Georgiana's ribcage prominently sticking out beneath the fabric of her one-piece bathing suit. If she went further down Georgiana's rail-like body, she'd spot Georgiana's protruding hipbones.

"Thank you. She _is_ gorgeous… many people think she's a vain, stuck-up brat when she goes out because of how she dresses. I've explained that to you, though." Darcy started out, the "proud papa" look returning to his features. He was very proud of Georgiana, there was no denying that; he took everything personally when his baby sister was involved.

"As for how slender she is, I guess it's a family trait; she's not anorexic or bulimic, if you were wondering. I told you I was that size when I was her age, remember?" Darcy shrugged, letting one of his legs droop to come in contact with Elizabeth's. She jumped somewhat and inched away; Darcy frowned slightly at her reaction, moving his leg back to its original position.

"So, you were, what, five foot four when you were seventeen and all of sixty pounds?" Elizabeth joshed, eyes still on the party going on in the pool. Since the triplets were paying so much attention to Georgiana, Noelle and Bonnie decided to do the same; poor Georgiana had one Gardiner kid or another hanging off her at every turn. She didn't seem to mind too much, though.

"You know what I mean, Kitten. I was six-three when I was seventeen and probably around one hundred and fifty pounds – and that was me _gaining_ weight." Darcy rolled his eyes, sitting up. With Elizabeth not looking his way, he was able to observe her uninhibitedly. He could see her vibrant purple two-piece around the beach towel hanging from her shoulders, and his gaze rested on the familiar creamy legs. Those legs had haunted many of his dreams from the time he'd accidentally glimpsed them, and Darcy wondered how many males had been able to view them. A protective, territorial waved surged through his body, but Darcy fought it back, knowing he didn't have any type of claim on Elizabeth (_yet_).

It really stunned him how such a pretty girl thought she was nothing, unappealing to men. Even though Darcy knew he was biased, he figured Elizabeth would probably rank a solid seven out of ten from most men (to him, she couldn't be numbered). It was absolutely mind-boggling that someone with such a strong will would bow down to such notions even though the evidence against them stared at her in the face every time she went by a reflective surface. Darcy wanted to reach out, to capture a few of Elizabeth's errant curls in his hand to run them around his finger, but he didn't knowing she'd be utterly dumbfounded by it. He was going to have to take it slower, differently than before. If Elizabeth cared for him more than a friend, which Darcy hoped she did, it would be something completely alien to her; he could understand her hesitating and even backing away.

"What, do I have something on me? Did one of the triplets do something to me?" Elizabeth asked suddenly, turning to Darcy, cheeks tinged pink. Under such a heavy, scrutinizing gaze, she couldn't help but feel his eyes on her person.

"No, no… purple looks good on you, Kitten. You should gather your cousins, it's almost nine." Darcy waved her off, standing up abruptly.

"Huh?"

"Since Aunt Mari hasn't gotten them out of the pool, I assume you're going to Typhoon Lagoon? Nine is when it opens today." Darcy explained, going to the edge of the pool. Since Georgiana was near the rim, he was able to effortlessly pluck her form the water and deposit her on the ground next to him.

"Aw, are ya leavin' already, Gee?" Shane pouted, clamoring over the side of the pool. Connor and James followed his lead, not wanting to be outdone.

"You should hang out with us today, Gee! We're going to Typhoon Lagoon today." James suggested, his brothers both echoing him with, "Yeah!" Noelle and Bonnie were nodding their heads in agreement as Mariabella and Eadbard glanced at each other.

"You shouldn't just invite people like that, boys. What if Gee and Darcy wanted to go to another part of the park, hm?" Eadbard admonished his boys, grabbing Noelle on his way out of the pool.

"No, no – we were going there today, too! I'd love to spend the day with you all." Georgiana laughed, patting James on the head. He grinned cheekily at Connor and Shane, wrapping his scrawny arms around Georgiana's waist for a hug as they stewed.

"My brother, however, probably wants to—"

"That's enough from you, Little Miss. We need to get your towel." Darcy interrupted Georgiana by placing his hands over her mouth, ears bright red. Georgiana laughed from behind his hands, rolling her eyes. She returned James' hug before grabbing her shorts and shirt, waving to the kids as she left with Darcy.

"They're an odd pair." Eadbard commented, plopping Noelle onto the ground before grabbing his towel to dry off some.

"Gee isn't weird; she's beautiful!" Connor retorted, scowling. Eadbard chuckled, shaking his head.

"I didn't mean that, Laddie; she is a very pretty girl. They just don't look that related to me." He placated his son, drying Connor's hair with his towel.

"Well, Gee must look like her mum since her da looks so different." Shane shrugged, ducking away from his father with a grin.

"Her dad?" Elizabeth sniggered, smiling widely; she couldn't wait to tell Darcy that her cousins thought he was Georgiana's father.

"Yeah, the tall bloke with you, Izzy. Isn't he Gee's da?" James tried to confirm the thought all the Gardiner kids had. Bonnie, who had been pulled out of the pool by Mariabella, pouted, mimicking Elizabeth's thinking look of knitting her eyebrows together. She had recognized Darcy's voice from somewhere, but…

"No, he can't be! He's Izzy's pwince!" Bonnie chirped around Mariabella drying her off. It had just popped into her head; from the way Elizabeth's face colored, she knew she was right.

"Izzy wouldn't like an owld man." Bonnie declared confidently to her disbelieving brothers.

"Bonnie is somewhat right… Darcy isn't my prince, and he's not Gee's dad. He's her older brother, and he's not that old – just twenty-nine." Elizabeth corrected quickly, hiding her face behind her beach towel. Darcy, her prince charming? Yeah, right! More like some stupid idiot trying to pass off as a prince!

"Twenty-nine _is_ old!"

"Oi, your mum and I are thirty-six!"

"Mum and Da are _super old_!"

"Take that back, you brat! I'll show you who's '_super old_'!"

Elizabeth laughed as her uncle started chasing Shane, Connor, and James around the pool, blatantly breaking the pool rules. The triplets were treated to manly, extra hard noogies when they were caught, much to Bonnie and Noelle's delight. After the shrieking had died down and the laughter had subsided to giggles, Mariabella and Eadbard led their brood into the building with Elizabeth trailing after them. She wondered how there were going to find the Darcys since they hadn't designated a time or place to meet up, but then she figured they'd see Darcy soon enough. He was pretty easy to spot even when he wasn't standing head and shoulders above the people around him – or he was to her, at least.

They were surprised to see the Darcys sitting in the lobby waiting for them when they went down. The triplets immediately took over Darcy's position at Georgiana's side, Connor and Shane each claiming one of her hands to James' dismay; he chose to walk backwards in front of Georgiana, babbling away. They took the front of the group while Noelle, who had at first wanted to latch herself onto Georgiana as well, moved onto the greener, less crowded pasture: her father. While normally she had to fight for a spot atop Eadbard's shoulders, today she was alone in pursuit of a piggyback ride. She, Eadbard, and Mariabella took up the middle of the group.

"Your cousins are quite taken with Gee." Darcy laughed, lagging behind with Elizabeth and Bonnie. Bonnie, after she'd connected the dots between "Elizabeth's prince" and Darcy, had decided to stick around the "love-struck" couple; she also thought, for an old guy, Darcy was pretty handsome.

"Hey, they turn ten next month. They're going to be lady-killers." Elizabeth joshed, elbowing Darcy in the ribs. He was walking just close enough to her to look protective but far enough away that she didn't feel too bothered by it; on Elizabeth's other side, Bonnie was sticking to her like glue, peeking her head up at Darcy every few minutes or so.

"Oh, yes, I can tell." Darcy snorted, pointing at James. James had shed his t-shirt and was flexing his nonexistent muscles, almost backing into an elderly woman because he was still walking backwards and not paying attention to anything but Georgiana.

"One day, some red-head boy is going to go knocking on your door, and you'll rue the day you laughed at James." Elizabeth said, feeling Bonnie tug on her hand. She looked down to her younger cousin, curious.

"How many times have you kiss't Dawcy?" Bonnie asked. In her frilly pink bathing suit with her wide eyes, Bonnie was the picture of innocence; Elizabeth's opinion, however, was that her cousin was a little devil in disguise. Darcy, who had heard Bonnie, went as red as Elizabeth did.

"I—we haven't—not like—never! You mean like your mum and dad, right? Never." Elizabeth stammered, unsure of what Bonnie meant. Whether Bonnie meant on the lips or somewhere else, neither had happened much. There had been that near kiss, and Darcy _might_ have kissed her forehead before, Elizabeth couldn't remember.

"But he's youw pwince!" Bonnie pressed, pouting determinedly. Elizabeth cocked her head to the side, mortification melting to overwhelming interest. That was the second time Bonnie had called Darcy Elizabeth's prince, yet Elizabeth was positive they had never met before.

"Why do you keep saying that? I don't have a prince." Elizabeth inquired, not seeing Darcy press his pointer finger to his lips in a hushing signal. Bonnie, on the other hand, saw him do so.

"'Cause you'we a pwincess! My Da is my pwince, an' Shane, Connor, or James can't be youws." Bonnie fibbed, grinning brightly. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, not believing Bonnie entirely but unable to come with a reason for the girl to lie. While Elizabeth's attention was still on Bonnie, Darcy gave Bonnie a thumbs up; it made her blush. Giggling, she hid behind Elizabeth for the rest of the walk to Typhoon Lagoon.

When Mariabella and Eadbard went to rent a locker to stuff the towels and extra clothing into, the triplets maintained their monopoly on Georgiana's attention, leaving the girls to Darcy and Elizabeth. Bonnie, though, had other plans and took Noelle to the side; the two wouldn't stop giggling and glancing at Elizabeth and Darcy.

"I'm sorry. You must be thinking my cousins are insane." Elizabeth remarked, keeping a watchful eye on Bonnie and Noelle, just in case.

"No, they remind me a bit of Gee when she was around their ages… although they are a bit more exuberant. The boys I wholeheartedly understand." Darcy joked, sticking his tongue out at the girls when he noticed them looking at him. When they spotted him doing so, it sent them into peals of laughter with Bonnie trying to duck behind Noelle to hide her rosy cheeks.

"They thought you were Gee's father, you know." Elizabeth mentioned casually, taking her gaze off her silly cousins to gauge Darcy's reaction. He didn't do much at first, but a petulant frown soon formed on his lips.

"Little rascals." Darcy muttered, a bit put out. Elizabeth sighed, rolling her eyes; it was ego-massaging time.

"They're all under ten, Crispy; they're not good at judging ages yet. Besides, I think someone has a crush." Elizabeth consoled. For a moment, Darcy's spirits rose in surprise since he thought Elizabeth was referring to herself. Then, he noticed her nodding at Bonnie, and he sighed in acceptance.

"As long as you don't show off your monkey chest, you should be able to keep her affections." Elizabeth added, yelping when she felt Darcy's fingers attacking her bare ribs.

"'Monkey chest'? '_Monkey chest_'?"

Originally, it had only been Bonnie and Noelle watched Darcy and Elizabeth. When he started chasing her into the water, saying things that all amounted to Darcy getting revenge, Georgiana and the triplets joined Bonnie and Noelle in their staring.

"Da's wrong. Izzy and Darcy are the odd pair." Connor said. Because she couldn't see it clearly, Georgiana requested the boys to describe what her brother was doing. They gladly did so, all three trying to answer at once. Georgiana understood them, so she was laughing by the end of their tale.

"What's a 'monkey chest'?"

"I dunno… maybe he's got a monkey on his chest?"

"_Coooool_. I want a monkey chest!"

When they got back to the spot where they'd left their kids, Elizabeth, and the Darcys, Mariabella and Eadbard were stupefied by what they saw. To the amusement of their sisters and Georgiana, the triplets were acting like monkeys, and they sounded pretty horrible. In the distance, they could see Darcy clutching Elizabeth tightly to his chest, kneeling in the wave pool to dunk her repeatedly; Elizabeth was squirming madly, trying vainly to escape his grasp.

"And we thought today was going to be the calm day." Mariabella commented when she found her voice. Eadbard grunted in agreement, unable to do much else.

**A/N**: _So, um, hey guys. I did end up going to my grandparents' for Thanksgiving on last-minute plans, so I wasn't able to update last month. Sorry! Still on that subject, depending on how long my mother makes us stay at my grandparents' for Christmas/New Year, I may or may not be able to update again this year. Anyways, I made up my own hotel for Disney World. Suck it. :P I know some hotels are on the park property, so… yeah. I hope you enjoyed!_

_Happy Holidays, y'all, and have a happy New Year! :D_

_~ Tobi_


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